


Fools

by shaqbutt



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Attempted Sexual Assault, Banter, Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Blood and Injury, Cunnilingus, Denial of Feelings, Drama, Drunken Confessions, English, Español | Spanish, Explicit Language, F/M, Face-Sitting, Female Friendship, Food Play, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Javier Peña/Female Reader, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Phone Sex, Pining, Probably dragging out the drama a bit too long but it'll be ok, Reader-Insert, Referenced violence, Repression, Restraints, Smoking, Smut, Teasing, Unhealthy Relationships, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, all the drama, butt stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 95,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25369720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaqbutt/pseuds/shaqbutt
Summary: The smut saga begins!Reader works at the US Embassy in the ambassador's office. A chance meeting with Connie Murphy leads to a good friendship...but also formally introduces her to Javier Peña.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 105
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts from mid-way season 1, post Elisa. The majority of my writing takes place in between events of the show, to fill in the gaps of what the characters could be doing outside of the narco drama. It's a lot of sex, a lot of feelings, and a good dash of original characters. 
> 
> If you're reading this, thank you so much and I hope you have a good time! <3

It’s taken a year but you finally feel comfortable after accepting the transfer to Colombia. You knew it was the right move career-wise but having to build respect from the ground up again in a new embassy wasn’t exactly enticing. But you sucked it up, took the chance and were finally reaping the rewards.

  
Trying to figure out office politics whilst sweltering in the Colombian heat was a struggle at first. It took a while to get a lot of the men to stop using pet names instead of your actual one, but you set them straight. And you also continued to adjust to life outside of work, learning the city and its customs. While you thought you had a grasp on Spanish, living in a Spanish-speaking country definitely showed you that you had so much more to learn. But slowly you improved and your self-esteem grew as you got a handle on things.

  
While there were plenty of men you had to assert dominance over to get them to take you seriously, you had lucked out with your partner Ben Williams who instantly took to you. You complement each other’s working styles; he’s always happy to do the paperwork while you are planning the next project. From the first week of working with him you established that you’ll only call him Williams, never Ben. You had a dog that was called Ben and you’d expressed that you’d rather not think of your dead dog every time you talked to him. He had no objection and you’ve remained friends and productive partners ever since.

  
You spend your days planning galas, drafting press releases, scheduling meetings, and whatever else Ambassador Noonan needs to have done. Not to be underestimated, you take it upon yourself to make contacts in the embassy’s different departments, CIA, FBI, DEA, etc., so as to establish yourself as the access point to Noonan. You’ve earned the respect of people, despite still feeling ogled by the odd mustachioed lothario in the halls, and are confidently able to do your job. Williams prefers to be in the office as much as possible, always choosing the boring files over human interaction. Low security work, like mailing, occasionally gets passed onto Nicole, Noonan’s secretary. Her daily jobs range from keeping the coffee fresh, the phones answered, and guests entertained as they wait for meetings, so she likes having the extra tasks once in a while. You’ve morphed into a great team and functional office.

  
The only part of your old life you miss is your friends. Throwing yourself into work was the best career decision, but it definitely makes you regret not going out more when you’re alone in your apartment on a weekend. Feeling particularly lonely, it seems like fate one night when you come home and find a woman picking up her fallen groceries in your building’s hallway. You rush over to her and help gather them off the floor as she thanks you avidly.

  
Smiling, you look over trying to recognize her. When your memory fails, you introduce yourself and ask, “Hey. I know this building is mostly government housing but I don’t think I’ve met you before. Do you work at the embassy?”

  
She returns your smile and says, “I’m Connie. And no, actually I’m a nurse. But my husband is DEA.” She motions to the stairwell. “Do you mind helping me bring these into my place?”

  
You follow her upstairs and through a door to plop the food on her counter. Looking around, the apartment is much cozier than yours, a lot more effort was certainly put into making a house a ‘home’. As you help her organize, you make pleasant small talk and exchange some laughs. It’s been 15 minutes and you already feel so comfortable with her. Excited at the thought of a new friend you clumsily blurt out, “Hey Connie, this may be weird but…” you shuffle your feet, “It’s a real boys club at the embassy. I’m really missing having female friends and since you live right upstairs…do you think we could give friendship a trial run?”

  
She laughs sweetly, “I think anyone who drops to help someone pick up their groceries would be a good candidate for a friend. How about this, come by around 7 and we can have dinner. I also could use more friends.” Flashing her a genuine smile, you promise you won’t return empty-handed as you head for the door. “Whatever you bring, I hope it’s liquid,” she yells as you head down the stairs. You hear the hint loud and clear.

  
A few hours and one trip to the store later, you’re back at Connie’s door, this time holding a bottle of wine and a bottle of tequila. You wanted to be prepared and had panicked at the store trying to guess what she likes, so you bought both. She excitedly welcomes you in and shoos you to her set dinner table. It’s a simple meal but you’re ecstatic as it’s the first home-cooked one you’ve had in a while.

  
The conversation is effortless, both eagerly sharing stories, observations about life in Colombia, and annoyance at how that one neighbor always seems to take his trash out at 2am, clanging everything in his vicinity. You profusely thank her for the meal as she stands to get some glasses for dessert. “Oh stop, it's nothing really,” she says, “You brought the good stuff.”

  
While she loves both your presents, she chooses the wine because you do both have work in the morning. Ushering you over to the couch, she turns on the radio for some background noise. It’s easy to forget that you and Connie just met with how relaxed you are in her living room, spreading out on her furniture. You’re both too busy laughing to hear when the two men enter.

  
“Hey Con,” says the blonde one. “Sorry I’m late. It's good to see you found company.” He nods to you and you raise your glass in recognition. He’s tall and thin, dressed in a suit a bit too big for him. The combination of the styled blonde hair on his head and the equally blonde moustache somehow suited him and you mentally give Connie kudos for bagging him.

  
Connie stands up to greet him and turns to introduce you, “She helped me when I dropped my groceries earlier. She works at the embassy with you guys.” When she motions to the other man in the room your stomach drops. _Who is that?_

  
Before you stands, maybe, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Dark hair, dark eyes, thick moustache, muscular build, leather jacket, tight jeans, and a button-up shirt that’s open just a tad too much; maybe it’s the booze but you are into it. Add all that to the grumpy look on his face and you’ve already fallen in love. But there’s something about him that seems oddly familiar and when you can’t come up with why you chock it up to your three glasses of wine. Suddenly you wish you had met Connie sooner.

  
“Great! I’m Steve Murphy, Connie’s husband,” he says shaking your hand, “Though you probably already got that. Where do you work at the embassy?”

  
“I’m basically Ambassador Noonan’s chief of staff. She definitely at least believes the work she’s doing is presidential,” you joke, earning a chuckle from both men,

“Yeah, I saw Connie as I was getting in my apartment downstairs, couldn’t not help.” You flash a smile her way and she raises her glass in thanks.

  
“Oh you live downstairs?” Steve asks. “You must be neighbors with Javi.” He slaps his arm down on the man beside him and nudges him towards you.

  
“Hey, I’m Javier Peña,” he says slightly annoyed, definitely not expecting to meet anyone new tonight. He’s cordial nonetheless and shakes your hand, taking care to look you up and down before he releases. _OH_. Suddenly you can place him. You’ve seen him in the halls so many times, and at Nicole’s desk for that matter, shamelessly flirting and ogling the bodies of the women in the building. You recall one time in particular when he caught your eye after you had watched him turn around to stare at someone’s ass. The big grin on his face, the sly wink he gave as he then checked you out, it all made you cringe. But here in Connie’s living room under the influence, you let it slide. He’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met, but he’s sure not the most subtle.

  
You give him your full name and add, “I brought wine and tequila if you boys want to join.” Steve leaves to grab two glasses for him and his partner but returns with whiskey instead of what you brought.

  
The conversation flows between the Murphys and you. Javi, deciding to be more focused on his drink, barely contributes. You can’t tell if he’s purposely not listening or simply absorbed in thought. Every so often you sneak a glance over to him, he looks so handsome doing nothing.

  
After a rather boisterous argument about whether Han shot first, the group lulls into a cheery silence. Steve asks Javi a question, trying to engage him, but he doesn’t hear him, stuck in his head while he stares into his glass. Steve gives up but you’re feeling brash.

  
“Any thoughts, comments, concerns? Anything to add?” you ask Javi sarcastically a little too loudly, shaking him from his trance. You wonder why he even bothered to stay if he was just going to sit in the corner and drink whiskey. Steve snorts at your boldness and Javi shoots him a scornful look.

  
“I have somewhere to be,” he stands abruptly. “Thanks Connie, Steve,...” He says your name with a little annoyed edge that wasn’t in his voice for the other two. _The bastard_.

  
As their front door shuts, you glance at the clock, midnight. “Oh crap,” you exclaim, “I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m so sorry, Connie. You told me you had work in the morning and I’ve stayed until midnight.”

  
“It's ok, really,” she reassures, “I had a bunch of fun. We should do this again.”

  
“Yeah,” Steve adds, “You’re definitely more cheerful than our usual guests.” He gestures towards the door, referencing the last person who walked through it. “Don’t judge him too hard, though. It was a long day.”

  
“Alright, I’ll give him a pass,” you say as you stand to leave. “I’d love to hang out anytime. I’m 1C downstairs if you need anything or want company.”

  
“You’ll be hearing from me very soon,” Connie promises. “Thanks for tonight.” You thank her yet again and head out the door, hearing it close behind you.

  
Coming down the stairs you smirk when you find Javier in the hall pressed against the wall smoking a cigarette, looking far more handsome than necessary. “I thought you had pressing things to attend to,” you taunt, still feeling daring.

  
“I do,” he huffs back, “I’m leaving now.”

  
“Whatever, Peña,” you chide, “You’re just trying to see which door is mine.” You jokingly scrunch up your nose, inducing a playful scoff from him.

  
“So what if I am?” he responds, suddenly interested in the conversation.

  
“I can guess which one is yours,” you say, continuing to torture him, “Now that I can put the noises at 2am to a face.” His face drains of color as you laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you. But be considerate of your neighbors.” Flashing him a drunken smile you cross the hall to unlock your door. “I’d invite you in but I’m assuming your plans will be more interesting.”

  
A slow smile creeps on his face, brown eyes sparkling in the dim hall lights. _God, he’s pretty_. “Another time,” he says.

  
“Another time,” you repeat. Holding his gaze until the last moment, you shut the door.

  
~~

  
As predicted, you and Connie become fast friends. You have dinner at her house at least one night a week, sometimes with Steve, sometimes with Steve and Javi, but a lot of the time it’s just you two. Topics range from things as trivial as the sweltering heat to more serious things like her growing frustration at being childless in a foreign country with a husband who could die at any moment. The light talks keep you entertained but the heavy ones knit you closer together. However, when the boys are around, you focus on happy things to distract them from the horrors of their days. It’s easy for Steve to switch off the pain over dinner, less so for Javier.

  
You won’t dare admit it out loud but there’s something about Javier that you find fascinating. While he’s friendly enough, he doesn’t find the need to be active in conversations, preferring to nod or scowl when necessary. Perpetually grumpy, sometimes it seems like it hurts him to enjoy himself for longer than a minute. Though you’ve secretly made it your mission to give him more reasons to smile. When the Murphys rope you both into going out to the bar, he’s barely there, only scanning for a lonely lady to take home. And there are plenty that indulge him once they get a look at his figure and feel the intensity behind his brown eyes. A part of you wants to knock on his door at 2am just to see what all the fuss is about. But the rational side of you knows he wouldn’t even open the door in the first place.

  
Work slowly grows more difficult as the violence increases in the city. The ambassador has a lot more demands to meet, which means you and Williams have twice the amount. Setting and sticking to a clear schedule, the office is functioning but both of your sanities are thin ice. As long as everything falls into place, everything will get done…which is why those fucks in the CIA really need to turn their data over by the end of day or you swear to god…

  
Before you mentally blow your gasket, a light knock on the office door catches your attention. Hernán, your go-to CIA contact, stands before you with a stack of papers in his hands. He smiles sheepishly knowing that he’s cutting it very close to your deadline. “Hey,” he says, handing over the documents, “I’ve got the data for you.”  
“Thanks. I don’t have to kill you now,” you reply. He laughs thinking you’re joking, but you’re actually a little disappointed, killing him would allow you to get out a lot of aggression right now.

  
“Well, I think I can make up for that,” he offers, piquing your interest.

  
Williams spins around in his chair to join the conversation. “Oh?”

  
“It’s my birthday,” Hernán says, waving off your birthday wishes when you cut him off, “And I’m having a party of sorts. It would be cool to have you guys come.”

  
“Us?” you respond, genuinely confused. While you like Hernán enough, you didn’t realize he thought of you as a party-invite level friend.

  
“Yeah, sometimes it’s fun to get out of the office,” he suggests, eagerly looking back and forth between you and Williams. “It’ll just be a bunch of the CIA guys and maybe Nicole and her friends.” You doubt very much that Nicole and the other secretaries will show but could you really spend a whole night with CIA guys?

  
Pondering for a minute, you decide what’s the harm in it and accept. Williams does so too, thinking it won’t be unbearable if you’re there. Excitedly, Hernán writes down the address of the bar on a scratch piece of paper and gives you the estimated time of arrival before scurrying back out the office.

  
“He must be scraping the barrel inviting us,” Williams jokes as he turns back to his work. He’s right but you’re not fazed. A party, even a CIA party, would be a great place to blow off some steam after all the recent stress.

  
You call Connie at home to invite her too; she deserves a night out dancing and Steve can deal with it. She admits she can’t commit until talking to her husband, but that she’s really interested. You assure her that there is no pressure to join and give her the address just in case Steve decides to live a little. Suddenly excited for your evening, you pack up your things to head home and change.

  
You catch a ride to the bar with Williams. This is the first party you’ve been invited to in a while and you’re thankful you won’t have to be sober enough to drive home. Williams is happy to play chauffeur as he thinks he’ll have an excuse to leave early.

  
“So I know it's Hernán from CIA’s birthday but who else do you think will be there?” he asks you.

  
“Oh...hmm. I know he invited the other CIA guys and Nicole.” You glance over to Williams to roll your eyes and he laughs. You both know Nicole will never come. “But besides that I’m sure it’ll be a mix from our embassy and the others in town. I think we were invited because we work with Nicole.”

  
Williams grunts in agreement, “We can never tell when they like us for _us_.” His obnoxious fake pout has you giggling. Williams is a great guy to work with and your friendship has blossomed naturally. Conversations with him are always so easy. You’re constantly thankful that he’s the one you got stuck with; you might not have made it this long in Colombia without him.

  
“So what’s your plan for tonight?” he asks.

  
“Oh I don’t know. I want to have fun but I’m not trying to make any new _friends_. So get drunk, mingle, and then taxi home. I know you’ll last, what? 2, 3 hours?”

  
He flashes you a huge smile, “Aww you know I’m boring and will totally bail.”

  
“Shut up,” you tease as you playfully smack his arm. “I am happy you drove though. I would not trust myself driving even tipsy on these roads.”

  
He pulls over to park when you finally reach the bar. You exit the car and smooth your outfit over. Dressing for tonight proved tough because you wanted to look hot but not hot enough that any of the guys try something. After sifting through your options you settled on tight black jeans and a plunging white shirt, pairing it with more dramatic makeup than usual. It's nothing too revealing but you feel sexy. Williams, ever the bore, couldn’t be bothered to change and has the same loose brown suit on from earlier in the day.

  
When you enter the bar you hear a pack of people yell ‘ayyyyy’. _Well I wonder who that is_. Turning your head, you see the CIA pack come over to welcome you and Williams in.

  
“Happy Birthday, Hernán. Thanks for inviting us,” you say.

  
“Oh psssshhh. Don’t call me Hernán. I’m _Alex_.” He’s already quite sloshed. “Do you remember all the guys? I know we probably all just look like more suits to you, but I promise sometimes we are fun.”

  
Glancing over them you realize he’s right; you can’t pick out any of them. You recognize the faces, but you wouldn’t have even remembered they were CIA if it wasn’t mentioned already. You and Williams admit defeat, which amuses them greatly.

  
“Rad,” Hernán shouts, “Like I said I’m Alex Hernán, birthday boy extraordinaire.” He bows sloppily and one of the others has to push him back up. He braces the man to his right. “This is Grant. Richie. Richie Grant.”

  
You shake Richie’s hand and smile. He looks a bit older with grey streaks in his hair. He seems to be in charge of keeping Hernán alive, though thoroughly enjoying the current state of the birthday boy.

  
Hernán slaps the man to his right, who grabs his hand and squeezes hard in retaliation. “This is my boy, Peter. He’s alright.” He rubs Peter’s face mockingly. “Nah, he’s the best.”

  
Peter laughs and shakes your hand. He’s tall and slim but handsome enough and you can feel his grey eyes look you over briefly. You take note of how he lingers on your fingers.

  
“And over there,” Hernán gestures towards the bar, “Are Sam and Nathan. Sam is Intel and Nathan is in weapons.” Both men raise their glasses to you in acknowledgement.

  
“Well thanks, Alex,” you say. You gesture to Williams and he sarcastically waves as you re-introduce yourselves in case they’ve forgotten too. “We work in the ambassador’s office.”

  
“Awesome, great, wonderful, we’re all friends. Shots?” Hernán yells a bit too loudly, eager for his party to continue.

  
“Yeah might as well.” You accept and the pack heads to the bar.

  
You undeniably are a little tipsy by the time other people start rolling in. You and the boys have messed around, daring each other to do shots in between hilarious stories. You’re having fun when you turn and notice Williams glance down at his watch. Rolling your eyes, you stride over to him with mock annoyance. “Hey now, where’d my fun guy go?”

  
“I think it’s past my bedtime.” He jokes, faking a yawn.

  
“It's barely past ten, Williams! Jeez, when did you become a grandma?”

  
“I’ve been a grandma since before I met you,” he says flatly.

  
You cackle and slap his back. You pull out a chair and plop down next to him. Looking around the bar, you spot Connie in the crowd. _Finally a woman_. A sense of relief swells through you.

  
“Alright. well, I see Connie is here, so I am allowing you to go. Be free my grandma, go and knit to your heart’s content.”

  
Williams smiles as he rises to his feet, you don’t have to tell him twice. “Thank you so much, partner. Expect a homemade scarf knit by these brittle hands.” He scoots out the door as you cross to go meet Connie.

  
“Ah! You’re here!” you scream excitedly at her. “It’s been a total boys’ club!”

  
She smiles. “Yeah, I finally convinced Steve to come out at least for a bit. It’s Friday, you know?”

  
“Where is that man of yours?” you ask, looking around.

  
“He has come from the bar bearing gifts.” Steve chimes in, holding three shots.

  
Linking arms with Connie, you take each other’s shot like you’re on spring break. Steve downs his swiftly to avoid participating.

  
“So how are you doing?” Steve asks.

  
“I’m alright. First time I’ve kind of let loose in a while so I intend to get drunk,” you admit as he chuckles and grabs onto Connie’s waist.

  
You hear your name being screamed from the CIA pack again, “Come back!”

  
You make a face at Connie and she pushes you to go as she backs Steve to the dance floor.

  
“So what are we doing now?” you ask, rejoining the group.

  
They set up an elaborate card game that you can barely comprehend. Peter takes it upon himself to lean into your side and explain the rules every time you make a wrong move. You’re annoyed by his touch and lean a little further away each time he does it but he always finds his way back to you. He dares to rest his hand on your knee and you shake it off in surprise.

  
“Hey!” Connie calls your name as she approaches the table, “Need another drink?”

  
“Yes,” you reply quickly. You’re so relieved to have an opportunity to leave the table. “I’ll come with you.”

  
Crossing to the bar you suddenly realize how drunk you are. “Whoa fuck, Connie. I might need to take a break from drinking.” You laugh while you balance yourself against the wall, head spinning.

  
“You good?” She watches you curiously, the nurse inside emerging.

  
“Yeah. I’m just starting to get uncomfortable. They are good guys but at least one of them has started to make a move.” You grimace. “I work with them, you know? That’s not a road I want to go down.”

  
“Well, I think you’ll have more fun with me anyway,” she offers. “Come sit with me, Steve, and Javi for a while.”

  
“Javi? He came?” you scoff, genuinely surprised. “There isn’t an open vagina for him to fill tonight?”

  
Connie spits out her drink, unable to control her laughter. “I would have loved to see his reaction if you had said that in front of him.”

  
“Well, I am drunk tonight! Who knows what I’ll let out!”

  
You order another drink to nurse and follow Connie back to her table. Both DEA men are too in their conversation to welcome you. You glance around and find Peter watching you. Annoyed, you lean over to _whisper_ in Connie’s ear. “Now he’s watching where I go. I’m going to have to be careful.”

  
“Who?” interjects Steve.

  
You turn to see both he and Javi looking at you, concerned. Obviously you spoke louder than intended.

  
“The CIA guys are starting to fawn over her,” Connie hiccups, “But she’s not sure if tonight is the night to start an _office romance_.”

  
You roll your eyes at Connie. “I just want to keep the CIA guys as friends. We work with them too often.”

  
Javi snuffs out his cigarette and folds his arms. “What makes you think they’re hitting on you?” he asks, a little too matter-of-factly for your liking.

  
You shoot Javi a dirty look. You don’t need him making you feel insecure tonight. For as much as you want to jump his bones, it’s really irritating when he gets under your skin.

  
Choosing to ignore his comment you turn to Connie. “Will you dance with me please? I can’t sit still anymore.”

  
She agrees and you both scurry down to the dance floor, silly and carefree, drunkenly bopping along to whatever music comes on.

  
“ _Ayyy_ ,” A loud voice comes near.

  
The CIA pack has entered the dance floor. Hernán is too drunk, flailing his body erratically. Sam and Nathan shift nervously, neither of them can find the rhythm. You notice Richie and Peter are standing a little further back, talking fervently while occasionally gesturing towards you. Your stomach turns and you lose your energy. You try to play it off like you need something at the bar but Connie sees your face.

  
“What happened?” She grabs your shoulders so you’ll stop walking away and look at her.

  
Your emotions are high because of how much alcohol you’ve had and you’re fighting back tears. “These stupid guys. I see them discussing which one will have a go at me, like I’m just a body. I’m not their co-worker. I’m not a friend.” She rubs your shoulders while you let it out. “I know I’m overreacting but I’ve dealt with so many men like them. They decide they’re going to fuck me and then they don’t even do it right. It’s always the worst sex with the guys who feel entitled to your body just because they’re willing to fuck it.” You lean on the bar and rub your temple. “I’m just going to go, Connie. It’s been a good night. So fun to hang out with you but I am just going to get a taxi home and sleep.”

  
She gives you a pitying look and you squeeze her shoulder as you walk away, not giving her an opportunity to protest. You make a beeline for the front door and head out into the cool air, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, enjoying the open space. You head to the curb and wait for a taxi to come around.

  
A hand caresses your side and pulls you back into a body. You jolt forward and push away to see Peter cowering back. “Sorry, Sorry” he apologizes, “That was stupid...you couldn’t even see it was me.”

  
“Yeah” you answer nervously, trying to quell your shock, “What are you doing out here? Smoke break?” You avert your gaze back to the road. Maybe looking will bring a taxi sooner.

  
“Uh…not really. I saw you leave and I thought…” he trails off as he grabs your hand.

  
You look at him and give a limp half smile as you try to pull away. He grabs harder, refusing to let you go.

  
“Peter? What are you doing? Let go of my hand.”

  
“Hey, I know we barely know each other. But we had fun tonight right?” You can tell he’s drunk by his lidded eyes and slurred words.

  
You tug again to no avail. “Peter let go of my hand,” you say more sternly but he’s not listening.

  
“I think you’re really cool. And I think we should go to my place, yeah?” He tries to pull you down towards some parked cars, but you resist, planting your feet.  
“Peter, let go of me now.” You’re about to use your full strength when Peter is pushed to the ground. Your eyes widen as you recognize the man before you. _Javier_?

  
You tilt your head in confusion as Javi pulls Peter to his feet. “Get the fuck out of here,” he barks, voice deadly deep.

  
Peter scrambles away quickly, stumbling over nothing in his haste. Javi watches him go all the way inside before turning to you. “You ok?”

  
“Uh yeah. Fuck. Yeah I guess so.” You put your hands on your hips to stabilize yourself. “Thanks.”

  
His eyes search you for marks or distress but he softens when he finds nothing. “Connie said she was worried about you leaving by yourself so I figured I’d try to catch up to you. Glad I did.”

  
“Yeah, me too.” You continue to stare at him, bewildered. “But you were going to catch up with me because?”

  
“To give you a ride home.” He jingles his keys. “Come on.”

  
On shaky legs, you cross the street to enter his car. Sinking into the passenger seat, you relax and exhale loudly, letting yourself settle into the leather. You’re not about to admit it out loud but you’re relieved someone was there to help you get away from Peter, even if it was Javi. The last thing you want is him pitying you or seeing you as weak.

  
“Glad to be away from the CIA bastards, huh?” He lights a cigarette as he starts to drive.

  
Your mind travels back to the bar, back to your annoyance. “Oh I am so done with their type. They think they can just bully people into bed and then they can’t even perform.”

  
“Perform?” He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity fully piqued.

  
“Yeah, these fucking self-entitled fucks talk about how much they are gonna fuck you up and then its like three thrusts and done.”

  
Javier snorts in surprise. You smile at him. It’s always nice to see his chiseled face with something other than a scowl.

  
“You laugh, but you’re a guy. I bet you you’ve cum during sex close to, if not, 100 percent of the time. I have not had that luxury.”

  
“Oh?” he eggs you on, curious as to how talkative you’ll get. He’s doing his best to watch you rant out of the corner of his eye while still focusing on the road.

  
“These guys, they just want to possess you. They don’t care if you get off. You can lead them to your clit and they’ll be like ‘ok thanks’ and ignore it the whole time.” The smile on his face grows. Javi is gobsmacked at your blunt honesty, maybe even impressed. “You know what I want, Peña?”

  
“What?”

  
“I want to be _fucked_.”

  
Rolling his eyes, he scoffs at you. “You can get fucked anytime you want.”

  
“No, Peña. I don’t want to have sex. I want to get _fucked_. I want my body to be adored, appreciated. I want my neck to be ravished with kisses. I want my ass and tits to be grabbed with force. I want a tongue to savor the taste of my body. Make me feel like they need me to live. I want someone to put in the effort to make me cum before they shove their disappointing dick into me. Or make an effort to find the spots to send me over the edge. God, I love sex, but I hate wasting my effort for a bad time.”  
You cross your arms and turn to the window, finished with your tirade. If you weren’t so drunk, you’d have never been so bold to admit this to anyone, let alone someone you barely know.

  
Javi doesn’t say anything but when you turn to look at his face he’s harboring a small smile. You furrow your brow, annoyed that he doesn’t have a response but the car stops as you pull up in front of your shared apartment building and distracts you.

  
Still buzzed, you call out to him before you enter your apartment, “Hey Peña!” He turns to look at you. “Come in for a night cap. I don’t think I’m ready to sleep yet.” A genuine smile returns to his face as he leaves his doorway to enter yours.

  
Flicking on the lights, you welcome him into your average apartment. It’s not much, but it has enough space for three, maybe four people to hang comfortably. You’ve lived here over a year at this point and while you’ve decorated, it doesn’t feel as comfy as you’d like it. “What can I get you Peña?” you ask.

  
“Whiskey, if you have it,” he answers.

  
You pour two glasses and sit on the couch, sinking into its familiar comfort. He chooses to sit in the armchair, the furthest possible spot from you.

  
You notice his calculated distance. _The bastard_. He may be looking extra fine in that leather jacket he’s so fond of, but does he really think that you’ll try to force yourself on him? He keeps his distance when you’re sober, you know better than to think he’s interested. Nevertheless, it’s always fun to mess with him.  
“What’s the matter Peña?” you tease, “Think I can’t control myself around you because I’m drunk?”

  
He chokes on his whiskey. You’ve only added to his confusion. “What?”

  
“I see you sitting as far away as possible. What? You think because I invite you in for a nightcap that I’m trying to sleep with you? Handsome _and_ full of himself, of course.” Chuckling, you take a large gulp of your whiskey.

  
“Handsome?” A small grin peaks at his lips as he baits you.

  
This whole night, you’ve constantly surprised him. Actually, the whole time he’s known you, you’ve surprised him. The drunken confessions definitely made driving you home worth it.

  
“Oh please,” you spit at him, annoyed he’s being coy. “You know what you look like, with your gorgeous tight button-ups and those jeans. That face, you know.” You gesture your hand up and down him to accentuate your point, taking another sip of your whiskey.

  
“Gorgeous button…what?” he mutters. He raises his voice to counter your attacks, “Well, you know what you look like.”

  
“Exactly,” you smirk, “which is why I know you’re not going to sleep with me.”

  
“What?” His smile falls.

  
“I have eyes, Javi. And ears, for that matter. I know I’m not your type.” You hang your head with a sad smile and finish your whiskey. You close your eyes and lean back into the couch.

  
Barely above a whisper, Javi breathes out “I don’t know why you’d think that.”

  
Your eyes shoot open with a burst of energy. Springing to your record collection, you flip through until you pluck one from the pack and secure it on the player. As the upbeat music fills the apartment, your body starts to sway.

  
“Up, Peña,” you say, pulling him out of the armchair. “Time to dance.”

  
You dance awkwardly like you’re back at the bar, but Javi simply stands there watching you as he finishes his drink. Groaning at his resistance, you grab his arms to try to get him to move, but he pulls you to him instead. You fall into him, resting your head against his chest, drinking in his cologne, feeling his inviting warmth, you continue to sway your hips. He gives in and softly sways too. As you look up and smile, you’re greeted with the same happy look on his face.

  
When the song fades into a new one, you suddenly remember your situation. You pull away abruptly, anxiety rising. He’s taken aback and his smile falls.

  
“Sorry,” you apologize, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m drunk and you’re being very nice. Thank you for getting me home, but I think I’ve annoyed you enough for one night”

  
He opens his mouth to say something but he bites his lip instead. His hands run over his face, “Yeah, ok.” Reluctantly, he turns and opens the door. “Drink some water before you lay down, will you?”

  
You chuckle as you let him out, “That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it? Goodnight.” Leaving him with a lingering smile, you slowly close the door.

  
Heeding his request, you head to bed after a glass of water. The pull of sleep is strong the minute you lie down. It was a fun night despite the CIA debacle. You drank so much that you’ll only have vague memories in the morning but at least tonight you’ll have a nice, deep sleep.

  
~~

Always the kind soul, Connie invites you to the holiday dinner she’s hosting over the weekend. “Just a few people I’ve collected over the years being down here,” she says, “It’ll be fun and you won’t have to drive home!” You roll your eyes remembering how bad you were the last time you got drunk in public.

  
Piecing together what you remember, there was a problem with the guys from CIA and Connie had made Javier take you home. You made an ass of yourself and annoyed Javi, talking about who knows what, until he left your apartment after you made him dance. The hangover the next morning was nothing compared to the embarrassment you felt from your drunken antics. One good thing to come out of it was the apologies you got from Hernán the following Monday. Coffee for you in hand, he offered the beverage as penance for he and his friends’ behavior. You had accepted, with the stipulation that Hernán would continue to bring the CIA documents to your office, never Peter.

  
“Alright, I think I can make it up the stairs for it,” you tease Connie. “What should I bring?” You have nothing going on anyway; you haven’t even thought about doing something special for the holiday season.

  
“I think one of your famous liquid desserts should suffice,” she says, “They’re a real crowd-pleaser.” You take the hint and buy champagne and some orange juice; night mimosas are a thing, right? You know Connie loves drinks that are bubbly and fruity, so despite the grumbles that may come from a pair of mustachioed DEA agents, you’re happy with your choice.

  
Hearing the party from the hallway, you knock extra loud on the Murphys’ door. It flings open to reveal Steve in truly the dorkiest sweater you’ve ever seen. He never really has grasped a sense of fashion, but this is something else. It’s hard to tell what’s worse: the mix of colors, the print, or the loose fit on his thin frame. Actively choosing to ignore the disaster, you hold up your presents and flash a smile.

  
“Come on in,” he says, taking the bottles from your hands as he ushers you through, “Dinner is almost ready.”

  
The apartment is warm with food, music and people chattering away gleefully. Connie spruced up the place by adding some sparkling garland to surfaces and buying colored napkins to place under drinks. You can’t feel the cool breeze of the night air in here; everyone is warm as they enjoy themselves, jackets piled on a chair in a corner. You add yours to the stack and sit down next to a familiar face, breathing in the smell of whiskey that surrounds him.

  
“Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

  
You’ve grown more comfortable with Javier in the last couple weeks. Since the night of your drinking disaster, you’ve felt him soften around you. He’s been more enjoyable in conversation whether it be at work, the hallway, or over dinner with the Murphys. You like the way he laughs at your jokes and the shift in his jaw when you call him on his bullshit. Sometimes he even smiles for more than a minute. You might be softening around him too. You’d be lying if you weren’t thinking about him often at night, wondering what he does to keep those women coming back to his apartment.

  
“Connie feeds me too much for me to skip this,” he grumbles before finishing the liquid in his glass. There’s a twinkle in his brown eyes as he leans over to nudge your shoulder. Your attention flies to his body as his toned arm bumps against you. The short sleeve black button-up fits him snuggly, maybe a bit too tightly around his biceps, and he managed to leave the top three buttons undone, giving you a peak at his smooth skin. _The bastard_. He really doesn’t have to do anything for your mind to wander. “You look nice tonight,” he says as he quickly looks you over.

  
“Oh?” you stutter, caught off guard, “Thanks.” A nervous heat surges through you, a response to the tingle dancing in your stomach. Was that a genuine compliment from Javier Peña? You didn’t even try to dress up, maybe a different color lipstick and a dressier top than normal. Trying to backpedal from your shock, you compliment him back, “You’re looking sharp too, Peña.”

  
He nods and looks down at his empty glass. “Need a drink?” he asks, getting up from the sofa.

  
Answering yes, you follow him into the kitchen to find Connie fretting over dinner, plates of different dishes spread out all over the counter.

  
She squeals your name as she gives you a tight hug, “You made it!”

  
“I did,” you respond, “And I brought dessert!” You shuffle behind her to grab the champagne that Steve had tucked away. Giddy, she pulls out two flutes from her cabinet, eager for you to pour. “And to top it all off…” you say, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, “…some orange juice.”

  
“Aren’t mimosas for the morning?” Javi chides, pouring himself another whiskey.

  
“Go over there and drink your sad man juice,” you tease with a wave of your hand, “Connie and I are being festive.”

  
He leaves while rolling his eyes as you and Connie giggle, clinking your glasses together.

  
With the table set, everyone takes their place and thanks Connie for her cooking before diving in. Making conversation, you enjoy meeting Connie’s other friends: the woman who grew close after staying in the hospital for two weeks and her husband, the abuela next door who Connie helps up the stairs sometimes, Alicia from her work that you have a bad feeling about but you can’t describe why. The good food fuels good feelings, and laughter erases any former awkwardness. Formality thrown out the window, the party flows through the apartment after dinner while people enjoy dessert, both the solid and liquid kinds. Content, you grab another holiday mimosa and slink onto the sofa near Javi.

  
The more drinks you have, the harder it is to not think about Javier, about kissing him, about how his moustache would feel against your skin, about how he probably knows exactly what he’s doing with a woman. He has no right sitting next to you on this couch looking so damn suave in his snug clothes, smelling of his last cigarette as he observes the room.

  
“I want to run my fingers through your stupid hair.” You mutter to yourself as you take another swig of your drink.

  
“What?” Javi asks, cocking an eyebrow.

  
 _Shit_. You didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Hmm?” you feign ignorance.

  
“You said something. I didn’t hear you.” He says, not letting it go.

  
“Did I?” you lie, “I don’t remember.” You smile and point to your drink, trying to blame your slip-up on the alcohol.

  
He grunts and falls back against the couch, but you still feel his eyes on your back. _Please drop it_. When Steve calls him over to the window for a smoke, you let yourself exhale.

  
Needing to escape the embarrassment, you flee to the kitchen to find Connie fussing over some snacks. She flashes you a smile and asks you if you’re having a good time. You assure her that her party is a success and help her arrange the bowls. Seeing the time is past midnight, you use it as the perfect excuse for bailing.  
“Hey Con,” you say, “I really have had a fun night tonight but this week was really long and I think I need to cut out now.”

  
“It’s because I burnt the spinach puffs isn’t it,” she pouts and your heart drops.

  
“Connie, no—“ Her smile as you protest makes you feel silly for believing her joke. “Damn you.”

  
“You’re too easy,” she laughs, “But I totally understand. Please get out of here and go sleep.” She nods towards the front door, and you silently thank her as you slip out.

  
In the safety of your apartment, you collapse into the armchair in your living room. Pinching your forehead, you try to force your blunder out of your mind. _So stupid_. With thinking it away not working, you head to your kitchen to try drinking it away. You’ve just poured yourself a glass when there are two quick knocks on your door. Confused, you try to remember what you could have left at Connie’s, assuming it’s her.

Your mouth falls open in surprise at who you find waiting. _Javier_.

  
He’s standing confidently with his hands on his hips, looking far too handsome than he should considering the dim hall lighting. A smile creeps from the corner of his mouth at your reaction. He holds up your jacket, giving him a reason to be at your door. As he looks you over, he notices the glass in your hand. “Mind if I join you?” he asks.

  
Catching you off guard, you nod your head as you answer, “Uh...yeah sure, Peña. Come in.” You step aside letting him enter. “Have a seat.”  
You motion to the living room and head back into the kitchen for a second glass. He leans your jacket along the armchair and plops onto the couch. Handing him his drink, you sit in the armchair, not wanting to embarrass yourself like the last time he came in for a nightcap. Observing your movements, he chuckles to himself before taking a sip.

  
“What?” you ask.

  
_How did you manage to mess this up already?_

  
He waits a beat before answering, drawing out the tension dramatically. “So you want to run your fingers through my stupid hair, huh?” he teases, looking you dead in the eyes.

  
Your stomach falls to the floor. _Shit_. You’re done for. Awkwardness overpowering your composure, you have no control over your reaction, your body faltering as you sink as far as you can into the safety of the cushion. You can only imagine the combination of emotions strewn across your face. Enjoying your torture, Javi continues to smirk.

  
“Do you remember the last time we were like this? Telling me how handsome and full of myself I am?”

  
“I was very drunk. I’m sorry,” you reply mortified, running your hands down your face.

  
You avert your gaze; his taunting look is making you sick as a second wave of distress flows through you.

  
“And chastised me for sitting where you are now because I thought you’d try something and figured I wouldn’t like it,” he continues, reveling in your agony.

  
“Again, very sorry,” you say, standing to flee as your fight-or-flight instincts kick in. Apparently, you were very chatty that night and he’s going to make you pay for it now.

  
“Well, you were wrong,“ he says, grabbing your hand before you get away, “I sat far away so I wouldn’t make a move.”

  
You freeze, shock coursing through you. When you turn to look at him, his face is less devilish, more soft, pupils dilating rapidly. He lightly tugs on your hand motioning for you to sit down next to him. When you comply, you lean against the edge, keeping a little distance. He keeps a hold on your hand, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.  
His voice is sickeningly deep as he says, “And that wasn’t the first or last night I’ve thought about making one.”

  
 _Fuck_. Your mind goes blank, leaving the anxiety behind. “Is that so?” you ask, gaining your nerve back.

  
You had thought he wouldn’t even grant you the time of day, given his usual interactions with you. But to be fair, he has been loosening his guard around you for a little while now. Were you too busy looking at him that you hadn’t bothered to notice he was doing the same to you?

  
“As much as you’ve thought about these button-ups,” he says placing your hand on his chest for you to dance your fingers across the fabric, “I’ve been thinking about tasting those lips.”

  
While a hand slips to your thigh, his eyes dart between your eyes and lips. Any doubt you have about his intentions fade away as a warmth rises in you, soaking with arousal. This is happening tonight; you’ve wanted him for long enough.

  
“Are you sure you want this?” you ask, giving him one last out before you let yourself go.

  
“That body has been tempting me for months. I’m going to worship it,” he growls.

  
 _Fuck_. The slickness between your thighs begs to be toyed with.

  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Peña,” you chide, slinking your hand up to wrap it around the nape of his neck.

  
“Aren’t you curious to find out if I’m worth the time?” he goads, inching closer to your mouth.

  
The anticipation is agonizing. You’re overwhelmed with lust, the strong fingers digging into your thigh, the intensity of his dark eyes searing into yours, the heat rolling off his toned body as he closes the distance between you. He stills mere centimeters before contact, waiting for an answer to his question. You take one more quick breath before plunging yourself into him, accepting his challenge.

  
For all the pent up tension, the kiss is surprisingly tender. Simple and sweet, you enjoy your first taste of him, one that is long overdue. His moustache tickles your upper lip as you follow his movements, allowing him to lead. He grabs a hold of your arm, pulling you over to straddle him. As he feels your thighs slide around him, the pressure from his lips builds. You grasp at his collar needing to hold on, matching his intensity in your kiss.

  
A moan escapes you when two hands clamp down on your ass, a sharp smack before massaging the fabric with dexterous fingers. His rough touch makes you want to sink further into him, let him have his way. Sliding his tongue to meet yours, you feel his thighs twitch beneath you, your own contracting around him too. You become aware of the rising bulge trapped between your bodies and slowly grind against it, earning a guttural growl from him.

  
“Shit,” he huffs out, breaking away.

  
The whine you make at the loss of him is cut off by one of pleasure as he licks up your neck, finding a new area to indulge. His kisses grow bruising when he grabs your neck to hold you still, teeth lightly nipping at the sensitive skin as you mumble incoherently from the pleasure. His mouth roams further south to lap at the tops of your breasts. He releases you of your shirt, swiftly sending your bra with it shortly after.

  
Free from fabric, his hands grope your breasts, the warm rough touch of his fingers kneading into them. He teases one nipple, coaxing it to rise as he attaches his mouth to the other, fully trying to consume every inch of you.

  
He wraps his arms around your back and slowly shifts until you’re down on the couch underneath him. Letting his hand drift down your body, it lands on the zipper of your pants. He leans back onto his knees looking down at you, and you grant him permission with a groan from your swollen lips. Gently, he removes you of the rest of your clothes and props your legs up, lowering himself to position his face above your aching core.

  
Savoring the look of you, he holds your gaze as he sends a teasing lick into your folds. Your breath hitches as your back arches upwards, his arm quick to hold you down. It’s as if he’s been hungry for days with the way he devours you, greedily lapping up every part of your wetness. His tongue dashes through you, especially unrelenting on the bundle of nerves he so deftly found.

  
When you think he couldn’t possibly do anything more, his finger cautiously enters you, curling to your top wall. Your needy whine encourages him and he pulls out to return with an added finger, pumping slowly. Bliss blinds you as your core clenches, feeling the promise of release. He focuses his mouth on your clit, pressuring it with tight circles from his tongue.

  
The orgasm hits you harder than expected, and you’re whimpering praise to him as he continues to ravish your writhing body, the high crashing through you. He doesn’t stop until you’re limp against the cushion, calm in ecstasy.

  
Catching your breath, you look over to Javi and find him slumped against the couch watching you with arousal caught in his moustache. As you regain function of your brain, you see that he is fully clothed and decide that it is not acceptable.

  
Once again, you throw yourself onto him to straddle his thighs, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. His hands creep up your naked back as you taste yourself on his lips. Your kisses travel down along his jaw and neck as you slowly unbutton his shirt, dramatically tossing it open to paw at his chest.

  
“How long have you wanted to do that for?” he teases, tossing his shirt aside.

  
“Shut up, Peña,” you growl into his skin, slinking down his body, pressing kisses as you go, until you’re kneeling before him. Holding his gaze, you slide his pants down to reveal his straining cock glistening with pre-cum. _Goddamn_. It turns out Peña does have a reason to be so confident.

  
You flash him a devilish wink and twirl your tongue against his tip to collect his arousal, feeling his legs strain under your arms that hold him down. You lap a long, slow stripe along his impressive length agonizingly slow, wanting him to feel your every move. Javi moans lowly when you finally take him into your mouth, suctioning your cheeks around him. Supporting the base with your hand, you bob up and down, slathering him with your wet mouth, making good use of those lips he so wanted to taste. Taking him as far as your throat will allow, you hum softly as your free hand massages his balls. His fingers dangle in your hair, digging into your scalp as you pull back to repeat the process, ragged breaths passing through his clenched teeth.

  
Just as you feel the throbbing of his cock increase, he lifts your head to remove himself from your mouth. Allowing him to calm down, you wait a beat before rising to straddle him once more. Reaching back you hold his cock steady as you slowly slide down onto it, letting your walls adjust to the girth. You rest your arms on his shoulders and kiss him as you languidly glide along his length, savoring how full you feel. You’re so sensitive to every twitch of his cock, every brush of his hand on your back, every lash of his tongue against yours, pleasure jolting through you.

  
As your movements accelerate, Javi’s lust takes control. Supporting your ass in his hands, he holds you in place and spreads his legs a little wider to plant his feet. He thrusts up into you, increasing in speed and power with each stroke. You have to pull your lips away and force your forehead against his to catch your breath with your mouth stuck in an O.

  
It isn’t enough and he flips you on your back, angling his cock back into you as his hands dig into your hips. _Fuck_. His eyes are as black as night, watching you take every thrust. You clutch at your breasts to soothe your aching nipples while he bucks his hips against yours, forming bruises. He looks incredible while fucking you into oblivion, muscles glistening in sweat, hair a shabby mess; it’s almost unfair.

  
The low rumble of a second orgasm turns into a roar when he reaches between you and rubs tight circles against your clit. This one starts in your toes as the familiar tingles flow up into you and you clench around him repeatedly, riding out your high.

  
“Fuck,” he mutters, “I’m close.” He pumps into you with three more rough thrusts and pulls out to spill his cum all over your stomach. Sputtering as he strokes himself, wave after wave lands on you, coating you in the warm arousal. Resting back on to his knees, he lays his forearms against your legs; his eyes raking over the state of your body.

  
“There’s some washcloths in the bathroom,” you say gesturing to the hall. He plants a soft kiss to your kneecap before heading off. He returns with a wet cloth and gingerly removes his cum from your body, careful to collect it all. He places one more kiss to your lips, just as soft as the first one you shared, and stands to put on his clothes.

  
You scurry to your bedroom and quickly throw on some loose clothes before returning to the living room where Javi is working on re-buttoning.

  
“Hey, we should do this again sometime,” you say, trying to sound alluring as you lay against the wall.

  
“I can’t commit to anything,” he responds flatly. His tone and body language are noticeably colder now that his clothes are back on.

  
“I didn’t ask that,” you say, taken aback. You know better than to expect anything serious from him. He doesn’t respond, so you try to plead your case, desperate for another shot at that dick. “We don’t have to say anything to the Murphys, nothing regular. My door will be open, Peña.”

  
He thinks it over as he lights up a cigarette taking a long drag. “As long as you’re not expecting things,” he says sternly, “I’ll take you up on your offer.” For as attractive as he is, Javi is still twice the asshole. His grumpy dramatics get old during a single dinner, let alone a whole day with the man; keeping things casual is the best idea.

  
“You’re so self-centered, Peña. Not everyone is trying to tie you down,” you chide, opening the door for him. He smiles and kisses your cheek as he passes through the doorway.

  
He’s halfway down the hall when he stops and turns back to you. “Well? Was I worth the time?” he teases with a shit-eating grin on his face. _The smug bastard_.

“Goodnight, Peña,” you say, rolling your eyes as you shut the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javi and reader's casual arrangement adds new dimensions and gets more interesting. ~Is that a tinge of jealousy I detect?~

Life while fucking Javier Peña remains much the same. The only times you see him, besides when he’s knocking on your door around midnight to come and fuck you into the ground, are those with Connie and Steve, and even then they are few and far between. True to his word, he treats you no differently outside the bedroom as he had before. He acts distant yet pleasant, engaging somewhat in conversation but adding no real weight to it. If either Murphy has an inkling to your arrangement, neither of them show it and your dinners and outings carry on as normal, the latter usually ending with Javi taking someone else home. You don’t mind, as you agree the affair should be casual, but it does sting your heart a little when you hear the noises around 2am.

While sex with Javi is fun, it’s inconsistent and you have more needs than he’s willing to fill. Between the ones Connie set you up with and the ones you’ve found on your own, you’ve gone on a few dates, some successful others not. One weekend you even picked up a tourist by chance and spent a lovely weekend in his hotel room, a welcome respite from your life that ends too soon as he jetted away from Bogotá. 

Feeling cheeky, Steve asks you the dreaded question while you, Connie, and Javi are relaxing in their living room after dinner, “Sooo, how’s your love life?” He wiggles his eyebrows as he talks, knowing he’s being a little shit. 

Connie smacks his arm to chastise him but you know she’s also eager to hear your answer. She’s invested a lot of time into setting you up and she would very much like for it to pay off some time soon.

“It’s alright,” you answer shrugging it off, “I’m dating a bit, but I’m still so swamped at work that it’s nice not having to deal with someone when I get home.” 

Javi huffs into his glass as he takes a sip of his whiskey, obviously amused. Connie and Steve uncomfortably shuffle in their seats. _Shit._ They have been having a lot more fights lately and your comment definitely won’t help. You quickly try to change the topic. 

“What I’m really annoyed about, though, is how so many men think they can hit on me at work.”

“They sit on their asses staring at documents all day. Seeing a woman must make the stupid come pouring out,” Steve says trying to be funny. It doesn’t land.

“If it were just passing words, I could let it slide, but it’s a bit more forward than that. Last week at a mixer we planned, this Russian diplomat probably twice my age stared at my cleavage every opportunity he had. I could feel his eyes examining me every time I was near,” you say, shivering in disgust as you remember. “Then on Monday, there was a necklace on my desk with a note from him attached saying ‘For you to wear when next we meet.’ Gross.” 

“The nerve of the guy,” Steve says, holding his wife a little tighter.

“Fucking dickhead,” Javi chimes in. 

“A flower, I get. A pastry, I get. Hell, I would love some damn coffee that isn’t sludge,” you continue, “But a damn necklace from someone I’m supposed to continue to work with? No thanks. I sent it back. And he’s not the only one to cross the line, just the most recent.”

“But then there’s Garza…” Connie teases, knowing you feel differently about this particular man’s affections.

“Yeah, there’s Garza,” you sigh with a slight smile as you dip your head down, suddenly feeling shy. 

Carlos Garza has made multiple visits to the American embassy since you’ve been working there. He’s a trusted member of the Mexican government and often meets with Noonan when he flies into Bogotá. You had made a very distinct first impression on him when you were chastising Williams for his lazy work.

“You’re impossible, Williams,” you had chided, “What I wouldn’t give to have a female partner in this job!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he had asked incredulously. “I don’t work with my dick!”

“Really?” you had continued, “Then explain all these typos! Doesn’t look like the work of someone using their brain!” The sound of someone choking on their drink had turned your attention to the open doorway where a handsome man in a suit was trying to catch his breath. Mortified, you ran over to profusely apologize, not recognizing the stranger but guessing he was important. 

The man had waived off your distress, claiming it was the hardest he had laughed in a while. “Carlos Garza,” he had said, reaching to shake your hand, “I work for Mexico.” 

You had responded with your name and asked him what he needed from your office, continuing to apologize for your lack of decorum. You had him smiling up until you had to shoo him out of the building to actually be productive for the day.

A few days later a tiny package had come for you with no return label. Upon opening it, you were even more surprised to find two tiny tubs of Wite-out wrapped in colorful tissue paper. Digging even further you had found a note that had made you smile, “For all those silly mistakes your friend makes – Garza.” _How clever._ From then on, you made a one-man exception on your ‘no-gifts-from-co-workers’ policy.

Each time he visits, Garza brings you something new. From food to books to silly trinkets, you’re always surprised and they’re never inappropriate. Your favorite present so far is definitely the little red serpent-like _alebrije_ he picked up for you in Oaxaca because quote, “It burns red like your soul and is snake-like, same as your quick tongue.” The personal nature of the present touches you so much that you make a special place for it on your desk.

Even without the gifts, you probably still would have softened around Garza because he’s so damn handsome. Maybe it’s the tailored suits, the fragrant cologne, the confidence, or the genuinely kind air about him but every time that mop of brown hair finds you in your office your heart swoons. He makes you feel appreciated in your job, always looking you in the eye when you speak, making you feel like he’s hanging on your every word. He’s quick to joke back with you but is always professional with business matters. He’s a charmer. If you weren’t at work, you might think he was flirting with you. If you weren’t at work, you’d probably flirt back.

“Who’s Garza?” Steve asks, zapping you out of your daydream. 

“He’s a Mexican official who’s taken a liking to her,” Connie responds, not letting you answer. You roll your eyes and flick her off, earning a cheery laugh from Javi.

“He hasn’t taken a liking to me, Connie,” you say defensively. But you relax your tone as you continue, “But he does give me the nicest presents every time he visits.”

“Ooo,” Steve teases, “A promising connection?”

“No!” you yell, “I’m not going to compromise my job like that.” You slump back into the chair, quietly thinking about Garza’s kindness. “But it’s nice to be thought of outside of a bedroom. It's more than I can say for the rest of the attention I get,” you joke. It doesn’t land and there’s an awkward silence before Connie changes the topic. 

The conversation winds down in the next few minutes as the group runs out of things to talk about and soon you're out in the hall with Javi going back to your apartments.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs you turn and ask, trying to be nonchalantly seductive, “You coming in?”

He furrows his brow. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” _Damn. Mission failed._ He continues on his way out of the building, leaving you in your doorway as your eyes find his ass. It’s a shame, you would have liked to get him out of those blue jeans.

**~~**

Your face scrunches in confusion when you arrive at work on Monday morning to find a to-go cup of coffee and a picked flower placed squarely at the center of your desk. You take a sip of the coffee and are delighted to find that it's still warm and rather good, leaps and bounds above what is usually in the work pot. The flower is white and fragrant, a simple but beautiful thing. There’s no note attached and you shuffle your things about to look for clues. Williams is no help in your quest and suggests that you ask Nicole if she knows anything about your gifts.

You walk out to find Nicole giggling as Javier leans over her desk. _Of course he’s here._ You roll your eyes. “Nicole,” you ask, “Do you have any idea who left the coffee on my desk?”

“No,” she responds, not bothering to look away from Javi, “It was already here when I got in.” Her eyes may be on him but his are on you, the mystery catching his attention.

“A secret admirer?” Javi asks.

“She’s always getting gifts,” Nicole pouts. “It would be so nice if I could get some…” she adds, trying to get Javi to catch the hint. 

Smirking, you pity her pursuit knowing he’s not even thinking of her as they speak. As you look Javi over, noticing how particularly snug his jeans are today, a wicked idea pops into your mind. 

“Well I guess I better start my day,” you say as you continue down the hall, sneakily grazing your hand across Javi’s backside, dipping lower than a co-worker should. “I have some errands to run.”

He jumps at your touch and keeps his eyes on you even as Nicole tries to continue their conversation. Knowing you have his attention, you turn and walk backwards for a beat, nodding your head, beckoning for him to follow.

“I’ll be back,” he growls to her, his voice low. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your back as he follows a few paces behind. You dart into a records room you know is usually empty and slide yourself behind one of the many tall rows, not bothering to flick on the light.

The door opens again a minute later only to shut without a sound. The room is dark save the lowlight that flows in from the door frame and you can hear his footsteps getting closer to you. His fingers finding you first, you melt into his touch as he grabs your arm to push you further down the row up against the wall. This may have been your idea but he’s taken over now. “Qué mala,” he chastises before crashing into your mouth.

You moan softly as you push against him battling for control, eager lips growing frenzied. He slides his tongue against your lower lip, coaxing you open. His grip on your arm tightens as he tastes you, pressure building. There’s a certain thrill to the hastiness, knowing the consequences if you’re caught. 

When he reaches out for you breasts though, you grab his hands to stop him, a sly grin sliding across your face. _He’s fucked now._ You push him back and fix your appearance; he watches you, breathless and confused. “Don’t forget to say bye to Nicole,” you tease as you walk past him, stopping only to plant a quick kiss to his cheek. 

Proud of your wickedness, you’re beaming when you return to your office. “Someone’s in a good mood,” Williams comments, not used to seeing you so happy early in the morning. 

“Oh,” you reply, “I think today is going to be good.” You tuck the flower on your desk behind your ear and get down to work. Mentally, you make a note to change into some lingerie when you get home, just in case. 

It’s eleven o’clock when you hear a familiar two knocks on your door. _Called it_.

**~~**

After that night, you see Javi more often. Your daring jaunt had declared the office fair game and he likes to take advantage of the new playing field. You’re not complaining. Like a giddy teenager, you revel in the secrecy, your casual fling turning into something more interesting. You thoroughly enjoy the appetizers he serves. The touches in the closets, the ass grabs in the elevator, the heated looks when he lights your cigarette on smoke breaks, it’s all working for you. And on a day when he’s teasing you at work, you expect him to come and finish what he started at night.

Instead of finding you after midnight once in a blue moon, he’s taken to come a little earlier whiskey in hand at least once a week, if not twice. He likes to banter for a round or two until you’ve riled him up enough to fuck you senseless. At this point, you know exactly which buttons to press to get what you want out of him. Javier has proven to be an excellent form of stress relief, and you find that you dampen at the sound of two knocks on the door. It’s the perfect balance for you. He comes, and cums, to you often enough that you don’t find it necessary to search for other partners. You’re so busy with work that you love being able to have great sex without putting in too much effort, saving the rest of your time off for relaxation or drinks with Connie. 

Connie is a staple in your life and at this point you would really go insane dealing with all these boys without her. Your schedule is more similar to hers than to Steve’s so you’ve taken to filling in the gaps between them. She’s cheery and thankful to have someone to dish out all her work gossip on, she feels guilty piling on to Steve’s drama even though he would probably welcome the distraction. You’re thankful for someone to unload onto that won’t judge you for your petty complaints. _Why do you sneeze so damn loud, Williams?_

When she excitedly invites you out for a night with her co-workers, there’s no way you’re saying no; she’s got you too far into a food debt for you to object. She catches you up on the current drama as Steve drives the three of you to the bar. Intently listening, you make a mental note not to sit next to Alicia. Who steals someone’s tongue depressors and then doesn’t replace them? Once parked, Connie zooms out of the car, hurrying the two of you along. 

She introduces you and Steve to the pack of ten or so huddled around a few tables. It’s a mixed bag, young, old, male, female, nice, Alicia, but they’re all very pleasant and welcome you in. You’re just about to sit down when Connie squeals, “Javi!” Jolting your head around, you find him sauntering over to the group already regretting his decision to come. He musters a smile and a curt wave as he pulls up a chair and sits next to you.

As the evening continues, Connie’s co-workers prove to be more fun than you had anticipated. Between the drinking games and the gross medical stories, you’re grabbing your sides to compose yourself from laughter; even Javi seems to be enjoying himself. You even might start to like Alicia— _might_ , but she’s on thin ice. The young doctor across the table, Manuel, takes to you and keeps trying to engage you in side conversations throughout the night.

“Hey,” Manuel asks, leaning over the table so you can hear him, “How are you liking Colombia, hermosa?” 

“It’s great here. Just gets a little too hot sometimes,” you answer, happy to pull your ears away from Connie’s surgery story.

“I don’t mind when things get a little too hot, hermosa,” he adds ogling you with a smirk. The way he speaks makes you think that he believes this is going well for him. You decide there’s no shame in entertaining him for a bit.

Internally rolling your eyes, you play along. “Noted,” you reply with a quick wink. A hand glides across your left thigh and wraps its fingers around the side of it. You turn your head to find Javier listening intently to Connie jabber on, but it’s definitely his hand that’s on you.

“Connie always talks about her fun American friend, but she didn’t mention how pretty you are,” Manuel says, continuing to lay it on thick. Javi’s fingers slowly curl into you.

“That’s probably because I’m more fun than I am pretty,” you joke before taking a swish of your drink to cover your wince at the growing pressure of Javi’s grip.

“I guess I’ll have to find out the truth then,” Manuel says as a playful smile paints his face.

“To the truth,” you raise your glass to clink with Manuel’s before downing the rest of your drink. Javi is grabbing you so tightly you swear his fingertips will leave little bruises.

“You’re empty, hermosa,” Manuel says, “Can I get you another?” 

You nod and he jets off to the bar. No sooner is he gone than Javi’s grip relaxes and his fingers slide higher up your thigh. Subconsciously, your legs spread a little wider as the anticipation builds inside of you. Trying your hardest not to look suspicious, you face your head toward the rest of the group, pretending to listen as Javi’s fingertips slowly fondle the center seam of your jeans. _The bastard._

You reach down to gently stroke his fingers as they locate your bundle of nerves, pressing lightly to shoot a ting of pleasure through you. Noticing Manuel returning, you still Javi’s hand and lead it back to your thigh. He exhales through his nose roughly and tears his hand from you completely. 

“For you, hermosa,” Manuel says, handing you your drink. 

You accept and cheers him again before taking a sip. A loud protest from Alicia captures your attention back to the main conversation and you become fully invested in how the tongue depressor debacle is going to be sorted out. Javier mutters to Steve as he stands up, pulling out his cigarettes from his pants pocket. _Smoke break._ You wait until after Alicia gives in and apologizes to sneak out and check on Javi.

You find him leaning against the wall lost in thought, as usual looking more handsome than necessary. 

‘Can I bum one?” you ask as he looks over his shoulder at you. He huffs and digs one out for you, lighting it after you place in between your lips. You take a long drag and chuckle when he dramatically falls back against the wall.

“Enjoying yourself?” he scoffs.

“Do I detect a tinge of jealousy, Peña?” you tease. He throws the butt on the ground and crosses his arms, refusing to answer. “Am I enjoying my payback?” you continue, “Yes, I am.”

“Payback?” He asks.

“I can’t let you keep flirting with Nicole right in front of me without letting you get a taste of your own medicine.” He notices the quick flex of your eyebrow. 

A cheeky smile grows on his face as he recognizes your game, “I’m allowed. Always looking for something new.” He reaches forward and tucks some stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you have a problem?”

Playfully dancing your fingers on his shoulder, you lean in next to his ear, “Why bother flirting with them when I could fuck you better?” You bite his earlobe quickly and pull back to take a long drag off your cigarette. Glancing up and down your body, he says nothing as he raises his eyebrow, showing you that you’ve won his attention. “Of course you’re free to go home with whoever you’d like,” you add, feigning disinterest, “I just hope you don’t make the wrong decision.” 

He looks around to check for other people before he grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you to him, enveloping your lips in a deep kiss. Smiling, you melt into his touch and grasp his collar for support. You give into his dominance, allowing him to lead as he controls the rhythm, his tongue ravishing yours.

Remembering where you are, you reluctantly tear away from Javi. Shooting him a quick wink, you give his ass a firm squeeze before heading back towards the bar. You’ve made it about halfway when a hard slap hits your ass. Instinctively you turn around to find Javier with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, particularly pleased with himself. Walking ahead of you, he winks and opens the door, motioning for you to enter. _The bastard._ You’re starting to like having him around outside of your apartment.

He heads to the bar for another drink, but you return to the group, sitting in between Connie and her friends just to piss him off. Smirking at you, he sits down next to Steve and resumes his conversation. He lasts thirty minutes more before he’s excusing himself, glancing your way before he exits the bar. You wink but don’t follow. The Murphys are your ride home and leaving now would be a sure-fire way for them to figure out your and Javi’s arrangement. 

Connie is finally ready to go an hour later and you pile into the backseat of the car with her, thankful for the breeze of the cool air. You cradle Connie in your arms as Steve drives, reassuring her that you did indeed enjoy her work friends, it was a fun night for everyone, and yes, Alicia can eat shit. Steve quietly laughs in the front at his wife’s drunk babbling.

A short drive later, you’re helping Steve coax Connie out of the car and into the building. “I’ve got it from here,” he says holding his wife steady as she slowly climbs the stairs. “Thanks for helping.”

“Anytime,” you say, giggling as you watch the struggle from your doorway. Once they are on the second floor safely you close your door and unwind, taking off your jacket, kicking off your shoes and tousling your hair. You’ve just sat down after pouring yourself a nightcap when you hear two knocks. You smile knowingly and take your time to open the door, deciding on how much to tease him.

“Yes, Peña?” you ask, getting lost in his alluring brown eyes.

“How did you get more gorgeous from the last time I saw you?” His words shoot straight to your fluttering heart as he stares into you lovingly, definitely a little buzzed. 

“You had more alcohol,” you joke, pulling back to allow him into your apartment.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” he says. He reaches out and cups your cheek gently, admiring you. The softness of it sends a warm sensation to your core, you could get used to this version of him. Wrapping his free hand around your ass, he pulls you to him and into a kiss, delicately nipping at your lips.

“I think I made the right choice for the night,” he taunts, giving your ass a slap.

“Shut up, Peña,” you respond, pulling at the belt loops on his pants, “Show me that I made the right one too.”

**~~**

Wine-drunk after dinner, you and Connie are giggling on her sofa, radio on, fan blasting. “I can’t even believe Alicia,” you scoff, “Labeling all her PPE after _she_ was the tongue depressor thief.” You shake your head in disbelief as Connie pours herself another glass. “Speaking of work drama though,” you continue, “Garza was in today.”

“Ooooo,” she teases as she sits up straight to give you her full attention. “What did you get this time?”

“Some _dulces_ he got from his last trip home. They were actually pretty good. But there’s more than just gifts this time…”

“Ah!” She squeals, “Stop dragging it out!”

“He, in so many words, mentioned that there’s an excellent bar in his hotel. Their signature drink is apparently renowned,” you say as you take another sip of wine while shamelessly trying to quell your shyness, “He swears I’ll love it.”

Connie shakes with excitement. “Well, what are you going to do?” 

“I don’t think it’s the best idea,” you admit. “Once you cross that line, you can’t really go back.” As much as you are enticed by him, sleeping with Garza could spiral into a lot of bad news at work. It might do more damage to your career than it would your vag. 

“Well then if you’re not going to get swept off your feet by Garza, come out with Steve and me tomorrow. We’re going to try and improve our Spanish by going to the movies,” she offers. You’ve explained to her multiple times about the power dynamics in the embassy and she’s not going to push you into sleeping with someone who could make things worse for you.

“Oh, Connie,” you say “I wish I could but I promised Williams I would go out with his friends tomorrow night. His old work friends are in town and he wants me there to talk about how much of a good partner he is.”

“Are you going to get laid?” she asks flatly. You choke on your drink.

"Connie!” you gawk, lightly smacking her arm.

“What!” she protests, “If you’re not going to take Garza up on his offer, why not try to pick someone up tomorrow night after Williams and his friends eventually bore you to tears?”

“Hey! Williams is great,” you say. “But also that wouldn’t be a bad idea to have in my back pocket.” 

You both fall over laughing into the couch. You hear the front door close as Steve comes into the room smiling.

“Having fun tonight, ladies?” he asks slyly.

“Hey, baby,” Connie says as she greets her husband with a kiss, “Sorry I didn’t know when you’d be back. I would have fixed you a plate.” She pushes him into the chair near the wall and climbs into his lap.

“No worries. Javi and I already picked through what was on the counter,” he says laughing as he embraces his tipsy wife. Your stomach drops. Javi was here and he didn’t bother to come out and say hi? _The bastard._ “He had to run,” Steve continues while wiggling his eyebrows, “He has _official_ DEA business to conduct.” You roll your eyes after deciphering his code.

“Well, with the husband home I think it’s time for me to go,” you joke, standing to collect your belongings.

“Enjoy your night tomorrow,” Connie says a bit too loudly, “Take my advice!” You laugh and nod as you take your leave. 

Sliding back to your apartment, your annoyance at Javi grows. It wouldn’t have been so hard to pop his head in before he left. He always has to be so damn frustrating. You’ve made up your mind, if you can’t count on your regular booty call to even acknowledge you, why not try for something new tomorrow?

~~

You. Look. Hot. You pampered yourself tonight and it paid off. Meticulous make-up and hair perfectly unkempt, you dressed yourself in tight black jeans and the emerald shirt that exposes your collarbones, plunging to reveal even more. Adding a splash of glitter and your sparkly heels, you’re ready to go. It’s way more dressy than you should be for a night out with Williams and his friends, but you’re trying to get lucky here.

Tearing yourself from your reflection, you grab your purse and head out the door. Connie spots you from down the hall, her hands full of groceries. “Hot damn, honey,” she hollers. “Who gave you the right?”

You flash her a confident smile and slowly twirl around to show off. “Oh, you like this?” you joke slyly. “I thought I’d take your advice. I figured I might try to get a little extra out of tonight. But given your reaction, I might have gone a little overboard.”

“No, no, no!” Connie protests. “You’ll have to fight them off!”

“You can still come if you want! Williams is picking me up soon but we can wait for you. I know how fun you can get.” She laughs when you shoot her a cheeky wink.

“Oh, I wish. But I can’t. After the movies, I think I might also try to get a little extra out of tonight,” she says, returning your wink with a shimmy of her shoulders.

“Godspeed, Connie. I wish you luck!” Beaming, you salute her and exit the building. Williams is already parked on the curb so you help yourself to the front seat.

“Daaamn,” he whistles while mock fanning himself. “If all I had to do is invite you out…” He bites his lip sarcastically as he starts to drive.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and swat his shoulder. “Sometimes it's nice to dress up. I don’t know, I just felt like it.” A wave of regret falls over you. “Is it too much _?_ ”

“You look great.” Williams softens. “I’m just teasing. It's nice to see you put as much effort into yourself as you do your work.”

Your jaw drops. “Does that mean I look a mess at work?” 

“Let’s just say some days you leave work looking like a train hit you,” he adds.

“Oh my god!” You pinch your forehead. “Why don’t you say anything?”

“And break your concentration?” He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah ‘cause that’ll go over well.” 

“True.” You laugh because he’s right. You probably do take your job too seriously but damn, you didn’t think it affected your appearance. “I will try to look less cavewoman more often. So, who are we meeting again?”

“A few guys from when I was at the embassy in Ottawa. A pair of American dorks and then Izzo who is Canadian, which means he sucks.”

Chuckling, you ask, “Am I going to regret coming out?”

“Who do you think I hang out with? CIA trash?” he jokes. “No, they’re just down on business and want to reminisce. You can enjoy the ammo you’ll get from my old embarrassing stories.”

“Alright I guess I trust you,” you tease sarcastically. “Thanks for inviting me out. It’ll be nice to hang outside of work.” 

He parks the car and you head inside. “Ben!” A loud voice shouts from a corner where two tables are smashed together. Williams hurries to the group, his excitement painted across his face. _He’s such a puppy._ His friends all rise to greet and embrace him. It's nice to see Williams so openly happy. Normally he’s simply quietly amused, refraining from showing too much emotion, but one minute with his friends and his guard is on the floor. 

One of them finally notices you standing awkwardly behind Williams. “And Ben’s friend! Hey little lady. How are you?” 

You scowl. Who is this old man calling a little lady?

Williams quickly puts his arm around your shoulder to introduce you and keep you from exploding. “She’s my partner down here. She basically is the glue that holds the ambassador’s office together. Don’t underestimate the _little lady_.” 

You chuckle and smack his chest, making a mental note to kill him if he ever calls you that again.

The old man reaches out to shake your hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. Any friend _or_ co-worker of Ben’s is welcome to sit with us.” He gestures towards the tables then looks at Williams. “So are you going to introduce everyone or should I?”

Williams rolls his eyes. “This is Frank Collins, my old boss. A real gentleman, as you can tell.” Frank mock curtsies and takes his seat. “That’s John Viall, a waste of taxpayer dollars.” The balding middle-aged man waves as he takes the seat closest to the wall. “And this is Izzo.” He grabs the shoulders of the man sitting in the chair in front of him. “He has our job but for Canada. So he’s a scoundrel of course.”

The Canadian shakes with laughter and his brown eyes twinkle. _Fuck, he’s cute._ He stands up to shake your hand. “Call me Dante. Only he calls me by my last name, like a weirdo.” He shoots Williams a look.

“Oh really?” you ask, chuckling, “Because I never call him Ben, only Williams.” His handshake is strong and his rough, thick fingers feel like heaven against your skin. _Well, fuck._ You jolt your hand away when you realize you’ve held onto him for longer than necessary.

“Then you two make quite the pair.” Dante flashes a smile and pulls out his chair, motioning for you to sit. “I’ll grab a round for the table.” You take the seat and watch as he walks away. You conclude that he definitely did not change out of his work clothes before coming here, wearing a white button up, a red tie, and brown trousers. While the colors look good on him, the clothes are slightly too large and ill-fitting. _He probably looks better with them off._

Dante returns with five beers and drags a chair to sit next to you. You clink bottles in thanks and steal a look at him while you take your first sip. He’s handsome for sure. He has a shaggy mop of black hair that’s at the perfect length for running your fingers through. His face seems recently clean-shaven and you marvel at his prominent nose and jaw. He seems like a cute, safe bet for an enjoyable time. If he decides he’s looking tonight, you’ll be sure to make yourself available. You must have been glancing too long because he quickly turns to you and raises an eyebrow. You look away and nervously take another sip, hoping you covered well.

Five more rounds of beers and countless laughs later, the atmosphere in the bar starts to change. More people crowd in and the music gets louder. “Fuck” complains Frank, “If this place is going to turn into a club I’m going to need more liquid courage. I’m getting shots.” He leaves for the bar, ignoring the groans from Williams and John. 

“It’s getting so hot in here,” Dante grumbles to you while fanning himself, “They told me Colombia was hot, but damn.” You chuckle and reach out for his tie. 

As the night progressed, you two had gotten more touchy-feely. First, your hand had lingered a little too long on his thigh after you swatted him for a cheeky joke. Then, he had laid his leg against yours and you didn’t pull away. With each story and beer, you had gotten more comfortable, leaning into his shoulder or grabbing his arm to stabilize yourself before you fell out of your chair laughing. He kept stealing looks at you and each time you held the gaze of his gorgeous brown eyes you felt a pull in your stomach. It feels so nice to have such an easy time flirting openly.

You give his tie a slight tug. “Well,” you taunt, “You could always make yourself more comfortable.” Pulling his tie loose so it hangs low, you release his top three buttons. You pull the collar open to free him, taking care to graze your fingers over his exposed skin. Holding back your drunken lust, you bite your lip as you look up at him. His dark eyes drink you in and dart from your eyes to your lips. He smiles and starts to lean in towards you when Frank abruptly returns.

Passing out a shot to everyone, Frank declares, “Tequila time, motherfuckers.” 

Each taking one, you all shoot them back and groan in unison at the abrupt change from beer to liquor. 

Frank reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigs. “Fuck, I need a smoke now, anyone else?” John agrees and the two men head outside.

Williams looks over to you and sighs loudly. He had noticed how you and Dante had progressively gotten flirtier and had accepted that you were setting your sights on him. He’s annoyed. You were supposed to talk him up not yourself, but he’s not going to pout about it now.

“I better make sure they don’t say anything stupid to anyone,” Williams huffs as he walks to the exit, turning to flick you off before disappearing beyond the door. You know he’s ticked that you chose Dante but he’s giving you his silent permission by leaving. You’ll apologize on Monday.

As soon as Williams is out of view you feel a hand brace your thigh. Dante is looking at you intently; his tongue grazes his bottom lip. “Hey…I know we just met...but you are absolutely stunning.” 

You’re instantly flustered and anxiously tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “Thanks. I think you’re not so bad yourself.” You lay your hand on top of his. A goofy grin slides across his face. 

Dante is nice. He’s accepted your advances all night. He’s laughed at your jokes. He’s been perfectly pleasant and respectful. You wonder why other people couldn’t let their guard down, why things couldn’t be easy like this is. _Maybe I should forget him and try to find someone like Dante so things could be easy._

The drunker you get the more you think about Javi. If you squint, Dante could look like a moustache-less Javi with way less emotional drama. _Why are you thinking about Javi?_ He hasn’t bothered to talk to you in a week and you are currently flirting with a very nice Canadian man. _Fuck you Javi, get out of my head_. You’re going to have nice enjoyable sex with Dante and won’t question what it means afterwards.

Dante slowly leans down towards you, “Hey um…” He pauses, “Can I kiss you?” You nod and allow him in. It’s soft, quick and pleasant, what you expected. He pulls back and smiles but you’re not done. You wink at him before going in for more. Six beers and a tequila shot down and you’re ready to fuck, but Dante keeps the kiss slow as he rubs your leg.

“Ahem!” Williams fake coughs loudly and he and the other men return to the tables. 

You pull away and Dante grabs the back of his head trying to pretend like he wasn’t just kissing you. 

“I think we need another round before we start playing,” Williams says reaching into his pocket to pull out a deck of cards.

“It’s on me,” Dante stands up far too quickly and bolts to the bar. 

It’s awkward and you cover your face in embarrassment. Apparently, Dante has no ability to play it cool. As you peel your hands away, you catch Williams' judgmental look. _Fuck._ He’s annoyed but you know he won’t tell you that while his friends are there. 

Fight-or-flight kicking in, you make a decision. “I think I’ll go to the bathroom,” you blurt out and flee before Williams can say anything. 

You dart to the back of the bar without looking around. You just need a minute alone to compose yourself. Relieved to find no line, you head right in. You shove the door to close it but it hits something before it can. Perplexed, you turn around and gasp. _Javier_

Watching you hungrily, he closes the door and locks it. Pools of black drown out his normally soothing brown eyes. “What…what are you doing?” You say hastily. You’re frozen in shock but desperately awaiting his next move. 

He saunters over to you and swabs his lip with his thumb as he ogles your body. He always has to be so damn dramatic. 

“You’re a sight today,” he drawls. 

Your breath hitches as he swiftly pulls you to him, resting his hand on the small of your back. Running your eyes all over his face, arousal quickly builds within as you try to comprehend what is happening. He tucks some stray hairs down around your ear. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, dragging a finger down your lower lip.

Your core clenches as a wet spot forms on your panties. “Yes,” you respond, barely above a whisper. 

Wasting no time, he grabs the back of your neck and envelops you in a bruising kiss. It’s aggressive, his teeth scrape against yours, his hands guiding your movements. You squeal as he digs his nails into your ass, the pleasurable pain weakening your knees.

He flips you around so your back is against him and bites down on your neck in the spot he knows makes you scream. A hand quickly swats over your mouth to suppress your moan; his other slides under your pants to cup your mound. You fall over in shock and grip the sink for support. He pulls back to undo your zipper and pushes your pants and panties down to your knees.

You catch his gaze in the mirror as he flashes you a wicked smile before sliding a finger into your wet folds that have been dripping since the moment you saw him. You hiss and feel him smile into your skin, tongue assaulting your neck. He adds a second finger and slides them into your entrance, pressuring your clit with his thumb. He feels like heaven as you begin to clench around his fingers. The promise of release builds quickly inside you as he curls them to your sweet spot. 

He grabs your chin with his free hand and forces you to look at him through the mirror’s reflection. His eyes are black with desire as you try to focus on him. He increases his pace and shoves his head next to your ear. “Cum,” he growls and nibbles your earlobe. _Fuck_. His command sends you over the edge and you orgasm on his fingers, coating them in slick. 

He pulls away from you abruptly, catching your gaze in the mirror while he makes a show of licking the arousal off his fingers. Panting, you grasp the sink, mind too blissed out to do anything else. His eye contact is so deep you feel it in your soul. 

“I’ll be waiting in my car when you want to get fucked by a real man.” His voice is gruff and direct. He doesn’t wait for a reply. He turns and slams the door on his way out, leaving you exposed and bewildered. 

You gawk at yourself in the mirror. A million thoughts cross your mind but you’re too stunned to focus on any of them. You don’t know how he knew where you were but he had found you and goddamn he wants you. You pull up your pants and splash some water on your face. _God, what the fuck?_ You were having a nice time with Williams and his friends. You were going to go home with Dante and probably have nice sex and call the night a success. Now Javier comes out of nowhere, fucks your shit up, and leaves. _The bastard._ But you’ll be damned if you want him any less. 

When you return to the table the men are all concerned. “It's ok,” you plead, “I think I went a little overboard with the booze and I just need to go home.” Dante’s face is crestfallen and your stomach knots knowing that you were now ditching him after flirting all night. Williams crosses his arms, not believing your lies but not willing to cause a scene. “Really, guys, enjoy and have a good rest of your trip in Colombia! Thanks for a great night.” You quickly retrieve your purse and exit the bar, trying to forget the image of Dante’s anguish. 

You spot Javi’s idle car and let yourself into the passenger seat. He drives off without saying anything as soon as you close the door. You look at him but he is actively avoiding your eyes, focusing on the road. He’s not going to budge so you relax against the seat, tilting your head to look out the window. Without warning, he reaches out to clutch your thigh. He grips you a bit too tightly for only pleasure, but you don’t mind. You swear you’ll have his fingerprints bruised into you before you even get to your apartment. It feels like he’s trying to keep you in place, like you’ll jump out of the car if he doesn’t hold on to you. He’s not usually this possessive with you. You’re always so submissive to his touch, it’s not necessary. _Oh._ You suddenly realize what could have spurned this. _Dante_ . He’s jealous. He’s jealous _and_ he’s pissed. 

The basis of your agreement is that your relationship is casual and to not expect any type of commitment. Yes, you had been hanging out more outside of sex, but he reminds you of the reality every time you hear a moan from down the hall. You’ve accepted that you’re not always the first choice for him. He, apparently, has not accepted the same. 

You want to scoff at the double standard but his anger is manifesting in ways that make you drip. You like the dominating air about him and love how you’ve riled him up without even trying. When did he get to the bar? How long did he sit there watching you flirt with Dante? What was his plan if you didn’t leave for the bathroom? How did he even know you were there in the first place? 

A quiet rage still seeps off of him as you exit his car. He puts a possessive arm on your lower back, pushing you slightly to make you walk faster. Brushing past his apartment, he leads you to yours. He taps his feet as you fumble with your keys, the anticipation building. 

The door is barely closed when you’re thrust upon it. Javi’s hands grab at you while he overtakes your mouth with his. His touch is desperate, roaming to claim every inch of you. Scraping your fingers down his back, you lean into the door for support. He pulls away from the kiss, panting as he nuzzles into your forehead. His hands rise to cup your breasts, soothing the exposed skin from your revealing shirt. He catches you by surprise, pulling your breasts out of your bra, not bothering to remove you of your clothes. You whine as he massages them hastily, flicking and teasing your nipples. 

“Do you like when I touch you?” He taunts, already knowing the answer. 

You nod, unable to speak.

He slides one hand down your body and slips it under your pants to tease your core. Still slick from the orgasm he gave you earlier, he swiftly slides two fingers into you, curling them at the perfect angle. When you moan, he quickly removes them to pressure your clit with a hard tap. 

“Goddamn tease,” you chastise through clenched teeth. 

He smirks and continues to torture you by repeatedly building you up and pulling away, denying you the release you crave.

“I know all the ways to make you fall apart,” he reminds you before attaching his tongue to your nipple to taste and bite. You begin to clench around his fingers and he rips himself away from you completely.

Staring you down, you watch as he unzips his pants to free his straining cock. As you slide down the wall to your knees, he returns to you, hissing when you touch him, already so sensitive. You take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue to absorb all his pre-cum. Inch by inch, you slide him further into you, making sure to savor it with your tongue. Bobbing back and forth along his delicious length, you look up to see his brown eyes focused on you, transfixed. You hum and watch his eyelids flutter in pleasure. A wicked thought crosses your mind and you slide your mouth off him. Staring up at him, you lightly peck at his cock with wet kisses, refusing to let him enjoy any feeling for long.

“Don’t you fucking tease me.” He grabs your head and lines your mouth back up to his tip. You obey and open your lips to him. He slides himself along the wet warmth, each time daring deeper. You moan softly as he fucks your face, enjoying how his body reacts to your feel. He holds your head steady as he pushes into you, reaching your throat. He stills, basking in the sensation, before pulling out to repeat the process. The pressure of his hardness suffocating you sends tears down your face, a most satisfying pain. You lay your tongue flat against it and lazily taste him. His hands shake against your head, and his thrusts grow erratic. You can feel his cock throb against your warm cheeks as you tighten them. _He’s close_. You anticipate his cum dripping down your throat, but he pulls back quickly to quell his release.

After catching his breath, he stands you up, helps you out of your clothes and tosses them aside. “Get on the fucking table,” he commands. 

Caving to him, you sit down at the edge of your kitchen table and watch him pull a chair over to you. He lightly nudges you to lie down and props your legs up, spreading you open. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he swiftly pulls you to his face as he sits down.

 _God._ Javi has always been good at this, but tonight he has you seeing stars. There’s no easing into it, he is relentless from his tongue’s first contact. Finding all your most sensitive spots quickly, his mouth abuses them. Adding even more, he curls two fingers into you hooking into a rhythm. _Fuck, he’s amazing_. You choke as he dares add a third finger, the pleasure bubbling up your spine. It’s when his tongue spins those tight circles on your clit that you finally let go. A needy whine charges out of you as you writhe on the table, cumming hard after being edged for so long. He doesn’t stop gratifying your body until it limps against the cold surface.

He stands over you and swats your thigh. His face glistens with arousal, his hair is a tangled mess but his eyes are still filled with fire. “Bed, now,” he growls, helping you down from the table. With him gripping your ass, you lead him to your bedroom. He pushes your arms down on the bed to bend you over. “Stay” he commands with a slap on your ass. You hear the clink of his belt as he removes himself of his pants and flings them aside.

He grips your ass with both of his hands after he lines up his cock. “This fucking pussy” he groans, sinking himself into your soaked center. 

His first few thrusts are slow, reveling in your tight wetness. His movements increase hastily, grip tightening as his hips vigorously meet yours. 

“Think he could ever fuck you like this?” he mutters. 

His jealousy manifests itself with every brutal pound. Another wave is building within as he continues to use you. He releases one hand to grip your neck, tugging your head back as he leans into you. 

“Fucking remember who makes you feel like this,” he grits in your ear as his fingers reach down to find your clit. Moaning, you’re overcome with pleasure as your third peak of the night rips through you.

The sensation of your orgasm spurns his own and soon he’s blindly cursing in Spanish, spilling into you. His fingers dip back into the bruises forming on your ass as he comes down from his high. You can feel him soften within you but yet he still doesn’t move, preferring to softly kiss your back. You don’t mind, you’ll let him stay as long as he’d like. After a few moments, he reluctantly pulls out and exits the room wordlessly, leaving you naked and ruined. 

You crawl into the bed and lay your back on the headboard. He had worn you out and you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. He returns with a damp washcloth and his pants. He hands you the cloth and pulls out a cigarette he got from his pocket to light it. Taking a puff, he turns to stare at you as he rubs his forehead, his expression unreadable. You have so many questions. 

“Javi,” you coo barely above a whisper, trying to get him to join you on the bed. 

He opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it, opting it to take a long drag from his cig. He says nothing, puts the butt out in your ashtray, pulls on his pants and slams the door as he leaves.

You slink down and spread out on the bed. “What the fuck,” you question audibly. What does any of this mean? Javier fumes with jealousy but he’s the one loudly reminding you that your relationship is non-exclusive. He says one thing but acts another. He hadn’t even talked to you in over a week before tonight. 

Replaying the night in your head gives you no more answers. Your frustration fades into warmth as you remember his touch, his words, his emotion. You didn’t realize how crazy you drove him. Sure, you think about him constantly but you’re not fucking him into the ground after you hear him with someone else. He really overstepped the casual line by being so possessive. _But goddamn if that wasn’t some of the hottest sex ever_ …you think as you drift into sleep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, jealous Javi is not a continuing theme! And it definitely doesn't go unchecked~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Friday night...  
> Reader realizes she also has some unchecked behaviors.  
> Javi forgets his respect women juice for exactly 30 seconds because he's exhausted and reader has a creative way to make sure he doesn't do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It kind of turns into omniscient narrator for a bit. I know its not the most structurally sound writing but I like the nuggets of Javi's perspective. 
> 
> Also, Javi isn't in control for once...so there's that.

On Monday morning, you’re cheery walking in to work. Having had the weekend to deal with your emotions from Friday night’s shit-storm, you welcome the chance to focus on work for a change. When you open the door to your office Williams spins around in his chair, already frowning.  _ Fuck.  _ You forgot that you would have to kiss his ass today after messing up his night.

“Well look who’s feeling better,” he taunts, trying to catch you in your lie. He knows you weren’t drunk enough to leave.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. Did I ruin the whole night for you guys?” you ask earnestly. He can tell you’re genuinely sorry and relaxes his offense.

“You’re lucky. Dante moped for maybe another hour but Frank got us more shots so they ended up forgetting you had even come out in the first place.” He turns back to his workstation. “Those,” he points to your desk, “are definitely not from Dante  _ or  _ me by the way.”

There’s a pastry bag and a rose placed gently on your desk. Excitedly, you rush over to investigate. Inside the bag there are two little puff pastries most likely filled with guava or cheese or both. The rose is a gorgeous red and you notice a little string with the semblance of ripped paper stuck to it.

“My guess is Garza,” Williams adds. “He always brings something for you. Maybe he couldn’t stick around.” Garza is definitely plausible, but you doubt that he would be so subtle and not have made more of an effort to see you. He makes a big deal every time he gives you a present, so you’re sure that he would have written you a note or at the very least told Nicole about it.

You shuffle your desk around to see if there are any more clues. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a little crumpled paper on the ground next to your chair. As you pick it up, you notice the tear on its side matches the one tied to the rose. Your heart swells as you read, ‘You look beautiful in green.’ It’s not signed but it seems obvious who it’s from.  _ Javier _ .

You’re so confused. This is getting to be a fucking rollercoaster with Javi. But by no means are you ready to get off yet. From the highs of his moustache brushing against your neck mid-kiss, to the lows of his long absences where you wonder what he’s doing only to hear someone else in his apartment, it all makes your head spin. Javi is insistent this thing you have is casual, but he’s interfered more than once when you’re getting attention from others. It’s not fair. He’s distant, so you look elsewhere. When you find someone else, he’s finger fucking you in the bathroom. You have great sex, he’s out the door without a word. Now there’s presents on your desk and a note he didn’t even sign?  _ What the fuck.  _ What you wouldn’t give to crack open his head. 

Noonan pops her head out of her office and calls for you to come in, pulling you from your thoughts. Immediately, you stop your wallowing to enter, closing the door behind you. While the office is basically immaculate, you can tell she’s on edge because the window is open. She only smokes when she’s ultra stressed, though publicly she claims she’s quit completely. She smacks a file down on her desk before pressing her hands against her head, emotions she would never show outside of your company.

By no means are you two friends, but there is an unsaid understanding that what is shared behind the closed door is confidential. She talks to you honestly, giving her opinions of officials, agents, and policies. You use the time to share useful information that wasn’t gained through the proper channels and report on how officials treat you and Nicole when not in her presence. 

“I need you to get those two DEA agents down here now, Peña and…the blonde one.”

“Murphy?”

“Yes, Peña and Murphy. I’m tired of talking to their boss if they are just going to disregard what he says. Those boys are going to come explain themselves to me.”

“I will call them right now. Do you need me to clear your schedule? You have a 1 o'clock.”

“That won’t be necessary. I plan on handing them their asses quickly.” You try to hide your smile as you nod and exit her office. You’re nervous for Javi but twice as impressed by Noonan. For as frustrating as she can be sometimes, she sure is one hell of a woman.

The phone rings a bit too long until an annoyed Javi picks up, “DEA, this is Peña.”

“Peña, hey.” 

“Need me now, huh?” he teases.  _ The bastard.  _ You can feel the smirk through the phone.

“What? No. Noonan is pissed and you two need to come here now. It doesn’t sound good for you.” 

“Ok. Shit.” You imagine all the blood draining from his smug face.

“But we do need to talk after,” you add, more sheepishly than you’d like.

He pauses. You can hear him exhale roughly through the receiver. “Ok. Lunch, then?”

“Yeah I think you’re going to need something to drown your sorrows in after this meeting anyway.” He doesn’t sound amused at your joke and ends the call, promising to see Noonan in 15 minutes.

25 minutes later, Javi and Steve are leaving Noonan’s office considerably more shaken than when they went in. She wasn’t lying when she said she’d hand them their asses quickly. Both men stand with their hands on their hips, trying to regain their egos, when you approach them. She must have done some real damage because Steve won’t even look you in the eye, muttering something about calling Connie as he walks away. Javi pulls out his cigarettes and shakes them at you, nodding his head toward the exit. You holler to Nicole to tell her you’ll be taking lunch and follow Javi out. 

He lights his cigarette and walks past where you usually smoke, choosing instead to cross the parking lot to the pedestrian street. You pick up your pace to catch up to him, caught off guard by his switch in direction. Walking side by side for a long while down the street, it feels like ages before you finally break the silence. “Do I even want to ask?”

“It’ll be ok,” he assures you with a grimace. “Sometimes it feels like they don’t actually want us to get him. It’s bullshit.” He takes another drag and stews in his anger until he glances over to you and softens, seeing your concerned face. “You had something you wanted to talk about though.” Grabbing your arm, he redirects from your wrong turn at the intersection.

“Oh yeah, but first where are we going?” He has been blindly guiding you for a while now and you hope to God he knows the way back because you weren’t paying attention.

Javi laughs. He knows the route by heart and after the meeting with Noonan, he had completely forgotten to tell you where you were going for lunch. He likes your flustered face. It’s not one he sees often. “Lunch, right?”

You relax as he leads you across the street to an unassuming little place with a few makeshift tables set out front. You trust Javi’s choices, he’s been here long enough to know where all the good stuff is, and order his recommendation, adding on a coffee to get you through the rest of the day.

You’ve settled for the tiny table in the shade where you sit apart, but just so. Before you can continue your conversation, a woman comes out with your coffee and Javi’s whiskey. The aroma rising out of the mug is too tempting to resist and you take a sip, knowing there’s a chance you might burn your tongue.  _ Oh, it’s heaven. _ It’s completely different than the sludge you had this morning and yet there’s something oddly familiar about it. You glance over to find Javi grinning at you, quietly snickering as he sips his drink. “What?” you ask.

“Oh nothing. I just haven’t seen someone react to coffee like that.”

You roll your eyes and swat his shoulder. “It really is fantastic. This would be much better to have every day than what I usually do.” You can’t help but think he knows something you don’t while his smirk grows more prominent watching you take another sip. “So how bad did she rip into you?” you ask.

He groans and shifts his jaw. “It’s nothing I can’t handle but we’re not best friends, that’s for sure.”

“Well I would hope not. Steve would be heartbroken if he heard that,” you quip nonchalantly.

He laughs loudly and reaches out to grab your hand, rubbing it a little as he smiles, finding your eyes. He could sit here like this all day.

His touch, while electric, reminds you of why you’re even at lunch in the first place. You clear your throat before changing the topic. “So about Friday night…”

He tenses and takes his hand away. You can see the anxiety hardening him, preparing for harsh words. It breaks your heart to lose his affection so quickly. It would probably help if you start with the positives. “…That was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Oh?” he says, relieved you didn’t go in a different direction. His jeans tighten a little, seeing the wicked smile on your pretty face. There you go again, always surprising him.

“But how did you know where I was?” 

“My job is to find Pablo Escobar and you’re asking how I found a government employee on a Friday night? I thought you thought better of me.”

“Oh I have many good thoughts about you Peña,” you tease, “But there is something eating at me...”

His smirk falls. You can see in his eyes he’s instantly back to his anxious state. He takes a sip of his whiskey before sitting up straight in his chair, ready for the worst. 

“The sex was hot but the jealousy was out of line Peña. We agreed on a casual thing, non-exclusive.”

“Yeah,” he hangs his head. He knows it wasn’t his most moral moment, not that he has many of those anyway. He saw you there and he wanted you. And he wanted you to make a different decision for the night. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, that green top was perfect on you. I wanted to be the one to take it off you.”

_ Oh _ is all you can muster out as his words hit you right in the core. You could reach over and kiss that stupid face right now. But you can’t, you have to deal with this or you’ll get no answers. “No matter how good the end result was, you saw I was with someone else. 

He drags his hands down his face. “Yeah. Again, sorry.”

Deciding to test the waters, you offer him a proposition. “I’m not opposed if you want to change our arrangement a bit. I think it’s safe to say at this point that we’re friends. I might actually be charmed by your grumpy nature, despite how much of a bastard you are.” 

His jaw shifts as he suppresses a laugh. You always catch him off guard; he doesn’t understand how you do it. He could be telling you about the horrors of his day and suddenly he’s able to forget it all, lost in laughter, lost in your eyes.

“We could start with you spending the night,” you continue, “You haven’t done that before. You do live just down the hall, not a far commute. You don’t always have to rush out.”

His eyes drift away, deep in thought. You swear you can see a slight smile curl in the corner of his lip before his brow furrows and he shakes his head. “No, casual is better for us. You’re busy, I’m busy, it’s better to not expect anything,” he answers matter-of-factly, as if he’s trying to convince himself it’s true. “We are friends though,” he adds.

While you are disappointed, one look into those brown eyes twinkling in the mid-day sun and you’ve accepted it. He’s right. You’re both busy. You get it, he doesn’t want to get tied down. You weren’t asking him for that, but you assume that’s why he’s resistant. At this point, you’d rather those few hours a week, those random moments at work, and the odd lunch like today than those long stretches when he disappears.

“That’s fine Peña. But if you get to fuck, I get to fuck. Understand?” It’s a crass statement but it’s one he’ll remember.

He laughs. “Yes. I really am sorry. I guess your words were just stuck in my head.”

Your face scrunches. “My words? What did I say?”

“That night we were out with Connie’s work friends. You told me, Why flirt with them when I could fuck you better?” The words come out better in that deliciously low voice of his than it ever could have in your own. 

“Oh yeah,” you say, smiling into your cup as you take a sip, “Wow, I do get bold when I’m horny.”

“You do, but I’m not complaining.” He laughs and you swat his hand resting on the table. “But did I?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Did you what?”

“Fuck you better?”

“Well Peña, I guess we’ll never know,” you answer with a slight tease. Deep down though, you know he definitely gave you a way better night than Dante could have. 

Conveniently your lunch arrives and cuts off the conversation in the comfortable lull.  _ Oh My God.  _ Of course the food is amazing. You thank him profusely for taking you here because you never would have noticed it yourself. Maybe you’ll let him blindly guide you more often. 

He is thoroughly enjoying all the silly faces you make as you take each bite. He immediately thinks of all the other spots around town that you’ve got to try. 

Both of you silently note how nice it is to share a meal without others around.

**~~**

You’re knocking on Connie’s door to join for dinner when you’re surprised, met by Steve’s happy face. 

“Steve! When did you get back?” you ask.

“Oh I think Wednesday or Thursday,” he answers, letting you in. “I’m not sure it was late and I was dead tired.”

Today is Monday. If Steve and Javi got back that long ago, why hadn’t he come to see you? He was already avoiding you for a week beforehand. He shrugged it off claiming it was stress about the raid in another city when you mentioned your concern after leaving the Murphys’ apartment one night, but his answer didn’t sit right in your stomach. You thought you were better friends than this, one week you understand but it's now pushing two.

Connie pokes out from the kitchen, pot in hand. “Yeah Javi came for dinner on Saturday. He didn’t stay long. He looked worse than Steve.”

This answer somehow makes you even madder.  _ So he’s home.  _ Just as you feel the anger bubbling, you realize something and chastise yourself. Just like he can’t be jealous, you can’t be mad. ‘This is casual’ you remind yourself. 

You hate this. You try so hard to not harbor these feelings for him. It’s not fair to him, he’s made it clear.

You do your best to push him out of your thoughts during dinner, but it’s hard to do the same when you’re alone in bed, trying to fall asleep. Was it something you did? You can’t remember doing anything out of line, in fact if anything you’ve been doting on him more. 

You can handle a grumpy Javi, an angry Javi, a drunk Javi, a reluctantly happy Javi, but a missing Javi is the worst. You even like seeing him on his dorky days when he wears that brown vest with the sleeves zipped off. Why was he keeping his distance? You were just starting to get used to him being around. You miss his stupid moustache. You wish he had wanted to make the arrangement more solid. 

**~~**

Javi is flirting with Nicole already when you arrive at work. Toying with her as always, he’s admiring her nail polish and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl. Normally this wouldn’t faze you much, but your blood is boiling with residual anger from last night. Of course this is how you find him…

“You don’t have a meeting with Noonan today, Peña.” Your voice is more curt than intended, annoyance seeping through while you try to disguise your hurt. When he turns to you, you can see how tired his eyes are. His suit is rumpled and he even forgot his tie. If you weren’t already full of frustration, you would pity him, but he has no such luck today. “The ambassador has time-sensitive plans, no room for you.” 

As you continue past Nicole’s desk to your office he grabs your arm to stop you. You whip your head around, scoffing at his hold.

“Fit me in.” He speaks assertively, his face stern. “I have time-sensitive plans too but I know what’s important,  _ doll _ .” Nicole gasps. Ripping your arm from his grasp, your eyes glare daggers into him.  _ How dare he?  _ He had never spoken to you before like that. Hell, you had never heard him speak like that in general. The attitude is not cute and you’re not going to entertain it. You expect this behavior from other men at the embassy, but Javi?

Suppressing your anger to the best of your ability, you warn him through gritted teeth. “You leave this office right now Peña or I will make sure you don’t see her all goddamn week. The ambassador will not see you today.” 

Fear floods his eyes as you flash him the angriest smile he’s ever seen. He flinches and backs out of the office slowly, not entirely sure what happened but definitely knowing it was his fault.

_ How fucking dare he, at your job?  _ The rest of the day you’re on edge, replaying the scene in your head. He can’t talk to you for weeks but he can waltz in and try to usurp your authority? 

Tossing your empty pen into the trash can aggressively, you notice Williams actively trying to avoid you. He knows better than to get in the crossfire and hopes to god he isn’t the cause of your outburst. “Williams, tell me,” you spit. His body tenses at the call of his name. “What the fuck is it about men that they think they know how to do my job better than I do?”

His shoulders relax when he realizes he’s in the clear. “I don’t know. But you should show whoever fucked up who’s the boss.” He rubs your shoulder reassuringly and exits the office. He doesn’t know it but he’s given you the perfect idea on how to chastise Javi.

**~~**

After a couple glasses of wine with dinner, you’re in your work clothes knocking on Javi’s door. It flings open to reveal the grumpy man frowning at you. “Yes?” he growls. His attitude doesn’t dissuade you and you push past him to enter. “Uh, welcome I guess,” he huffs out, closing the door. 

It’s the first time you’ve been inside his place and it's in better shape than you expected. Unlike most bachelor pads, he keeps his place clean, but there’s almost a hotel-like quality to it, as though he barely lives here. He returns to his spot on the couch where his whiskey glass and ashtray lie. He curiously watches you from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to explain why you’re here.

Him acting like an ass easily brings back your anger. Abruptly, you grab him by the base of his hair and use your other hand to turn his face to yours. “What the fuck,” he curses as his mouth falls open in surprise pain. You hope it hurts. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Peña?” To force him to focus on your words you speak low and stern. He stares back at you, confused but aroused. He wonders where this side of you has been hiding. 

Tightening your grip on his hair, you lean down next to his ear to whisper. “You think I let anyone call me  _ doll  _ in my office?” You cup his bulge over his jeans feeling it quickly rise, squeezing a bit too hard for only pleasure. A wimpy groan escapes him, eyes darkening, chest heaving faster.

Pulling on his already loose tie, you remove him of it. “Give me your belt,” you command. He fumbles quickly to free it and hands it over. “Go get on your bed.” Without hesitating, he stands up and leads you down the hall.  _ Is the Javier Peña actually following directions? _

“Hands up.” He leans against the headboard, raising his arms as told. Using his tie and belt, you bind his hands to the bed, tight enough to leave marks for tomorrow. You straddle him, feeling the increase in his hardness.

“You think you can walk into my office,” you start to unbutton his white dress shirt, “in your tight fucking clothes and tell me how to do my job?” Pushing his shirt open, you massage his chest, fingers dancing on his soft skin. Capturing his gaze you flick his nipple. His teeth clench as he shakes his head to respond to your question. “You overstepped, Peña.”

Shimmying to the edge of the bed, you unbutton his pants and raise an eyebrow, pausing for a moment. “Can I continue?” you ask, making sure you’re not misreading things. He nods, allowing you to disrobe him and free his cock, the hard member begging for attention. As you spread his legs open, you lean down before his girth, arching your back so he can see your ass.

With a wicked smile you grab the base of his length and plant a soft kiss to the tip. He twitches and you can hear his breath skip. “Don’t mess with me, Peña,” you tease, “I’ll be the death of you.” You take him far into your mouth. His hips buck on contact and a wanton moan escapes him.

Flattening your tongue against his shaft, you bob a steady rhythm, making sure to savor every inch, tightening your cheeks to enhance the pressure as he pulses. You know you’re driving him crazy when you can hear the headboard flap from his attempts to free his hands. Desperate to control your movements, he attempts to buck his hips into your mouth. You deny him by resting your arm on his thigh, forcing him down against the bed.

“Fuck,” he blurts out, “I’m close. Fuck. Don’t—“ Swiftly you sit up and step off the bed. He grunts in frustration as his cock throbs, missing the feel of you. “Fuck you.”

You grin as you lean against the wall, relishing in his torture. Unzipping your pants, you reach down to play with your soaked folds, moaning softly as you rub circles into your clit. Teasingly, you hold his eye contact, watching him squirm while he tries again to free himself.

His eyes are rabid but his voice is soft when he begs you, “Please.” You rid yourself only of your pants, leaving on your panties and the rest of your clothes, and return to straddle him. The feel of wet fabric against his sensitive girth produces a delicious moan that rests so sweetly in your ears. Still feeling wicked, you slowly lean towards his face but stop when you are just out of reach. He’s tired of the games and lunges out to bite your lower lip wanting to taste you, but he just misses.

Smiling when he fails, you reach back and grip his cock in your hand. “Mmm  _ doll _ ,” you bite your lip, “Don’t forget who’s in charge.” Pushing your panties aside you sink down onto him, taking his full length. Languidly clenching around him, riding achingly slow, you watch him lose it underneath you.

He writhes in distress, the lack of control driving him mad. He can’t touch you, can’t kiss you. You haven’t even removed your top for him to see your body move on top of him. Wanting to encourage you, he bucks his hips upwards but you pin him down again, denying his request, instead adjusting to swirl your hips in equally slow circles. Your hand travels down to pleasure your clit, slowly building a familiar heat.

“Act like that again, Peña,” Your breath is ragged as you increase your speed focusing in on your most sensitive spot, “And you’ll never fuck this pussy again.” Crying out deliriously, you hit your climax and come undone upon him.

“Fuuuck,” Javi moans, thrusting frantically below you. You’re too blissed out to chastise him, finally allowing him some control. His breathing grows heavy and his rhythm falls apart.  _ He’s close.  _ Swiftly, you slide off of his cock and take it into your hand. He’s too far-gone to protest and you jerk it sloppily, easily aided by its slickness. His whole body shakes, incoherent Spanish and your name spews from his lips, and he spills out, coating his stomach.

Closing his eyes, he limps into the bed, trying to control his breathing. You stand and redress, a simple task since you’re only missing your pants. When you turn back around, he’s staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

Sauntering over to him, you remove one hand from his restraints and loosen the other. You lean down next to his ear. “You have an appointment tomorrow at 2:30. Don’t be fucking late.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, you exit the room, leaving him exposed with one hand still tied. He calls your name but you ignore it and slam his front door on the way out.

Once inside your apartment you collapse against the door.  _ Where the fuck did that come from?  _ You fucked that man up. He deserves it though for all the times he’s ravished you and left. Still, you’re stunned at the size of your own gall.

You take a cold shower to calm yourself. Your mind races as you second-guess your actions. Javi was usually the dominant one in your arrangement, but you needed to let him know that the attitude can’t carry over into work. Lying in bed, you ping back and forth between positive and negative outcomes as you slowly fall asleep.

**~~**

The day soars by and its 2:00 already when you glance at the clock. Checking the schedule to see what’s next, you curse under your breath.  _ Oh shit.  _ Javi’s meeting is at 2:30. Anxiety creeps in at the thought of having to face him. 

The loud ring of your desk phone interrupts your panic. An angry voice barks in your ear and you motion to Williams to come over for help. Apparently there is a mix-up with the catering for next Thursday’s event and it needs to be sorted out right now. 

What feels like a lifetime later, you put down the receiver and pinch your forehead. “Why does every little detail have to cause so much drama?” you groan.

Williams chuckles. “My theory is that it happens just to personally piss you off.” Flashing him a sarcastic smile, you flick him off. Your gaze lands on the clock, 2:29.  _ Fuck.  _ You scramble out the door to see Javi in a chair outside of Noonan’s office. Feeling eyes on him, he glances up and rises instinctively when he sees you looking. He clears his throat like he’s about to speak when Noonan’s door flies open. She beckons him in wordlessly and he follows.

Twenty minutes later you hear Noonan’s voice. “You better know what you’re doing Agent Peña,” she warns. The doors to her office close just as yours swings open.  _ Javier. _

Greeting you with a smile, he stands in the doorframe when you swivel your chair in its direction. Searching the room, Javi tenses up when he sees Williams is also here, on the phone, engrossed in conversation. Holding up his pack of cigarettes he tilts his head towards you. “Smoke break?” You nod and follow him outside. 

He lights up while facing the street, purposely not making eye contact. He takes a long drag. “Are we good?” His voice is cautious and he turns to face you, a flash of nerves in his eyes. You nod and he grunts in acknowledgement. After another long drag, he places a hand on his hip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep yesterday.”

“I’m used to it,” you sigh. His eyes soften at your admission but you avert your gaze, not wanting to feel his pity. “But I don’t expect it to come from someone who wants to keep fucking me.”

“Please do.” He blurts out, staring at you intently. 

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

A smile slowly builds on your face, “Oh?”

“I was a real ass and you let me have it last night.” He returns your smile and raises his hands in surrender. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good,” you taunt, “You better have.”

“It was wild,” he gawks. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Yeah well Peña,” you nudge his shoulder playfully, “I know how to fuck too.” 

Seemingly out of nowhere he asks, “Hey, do you like to eat?”

You shoot him a confused look, “What the hell did you just ask me?”

He smirks. “I’ll take that as a yes. Can I bring you dinner tonight?” Is 9 too late?” 

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Ok Peña. I’ll allow it.”

He stamps out his cigarette and returns his hands to his hips, looking at you frustrated. “Will you call me Javi already dammit?”

Laughing you lightly tap at his cheek, “When you earn it Peña.”

**~~**

True to his word, there are two knocks on your door at 9 that night. The first thing you notice is his change of clothes. He had been wearing his thrown together suit for his meeting with Noonan, but now he’s making your heart flutter in his white button-up and blue jeans. The second thing you notice is the smell coming out of the box in his hand, savory and mouthwatering.

Eagerly, you welcome him in and he places a Styrofoam container on your counter. You question him why there’s only one and he confesses that he only brought enough for you. Too hungry to give it a second thought, you grab some silverware and dig in, not bothering to grab a seat, 9 pm was way too long to wait.

He seems to enjoy your excitement when you take your first bite, smirking to hold back a laugh while he watches from a kitchen chair. He’s only seen you so excited about food twice, both times because of him. No offense to Connie, but over the many dinners you’ve all shared together, he can’t remember you having such a grand reaction to her cooking. He wonders what you’d think about the tacos from the cart near the park. There are so many places he could take you.

He rubs his wrists and brings your attention to them. You notice the slight bruises that formed. They were hidden earlier by the suit jacket, but now you can see your damage. You wonder how he feels about having a mark from you so visible on him. Given his nature, he could have plenty of plausible excuses if someone were to ask how he got them, but you smile knowing the true answer.

Finally maxing out the space in your stomach, you turn your fork upside down and declare defeat. He brought you a giant portion and while it is delicious, you definitely cannot finish it all. “Thanks, Peña. It was worth the wait.”

“I’m glad it was,” he responds with a sly smirk. You’re curious as to why he’s in a particularly good mood. It’s a nice departure from his generally grumpy self but it’s suspicious nonetheless. He’s doing nothing overly suspicious, but you sense a little extra meaning in his words, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Are you sure you don’t want some?” you ask, half hoping he doesn’t because you kind of don’t want to share your leftovers.

“Yeah that’s not what I want for dinner,” he responds flatly.

You put the container in the fridge and return to lean against the counter. “That’s cryptic. You have plans after this?” It would be like him to make sure he has an out, it is only a dinner between friends after all.

“No, I just want something else.” There’s something in his eyes you can’t read, but the stare he’s holding you in is bringing heat to your body.

What is he getting at?  _ The dramatic bastard.  _ “That’s even more cryptic, Peña.”

He stands from his chair and strides directly over to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, his hands on your waist holding you to him. Caught off guard, your knees buckle a bit and he grips you harder to hold you steady. You adjust and plant your feet to put more force into your kiss, sliding your hand up to brace his neck. He reaches between your bodies to rub his fingers against the center seam of your pants, letting you know exactly what he wants. “I’m going to eat you out until you call me Javi,” he says, pulling back from the kiss to find your eyes.

_ Holy Shit.  _ That low voice opens the floodgates. He pops an eyebrow suggestively and slaps your ass with a loud smack, rubbing after to soothe and run his fingers around your curves.  _ This man.  _ Your eyes must be pools at black at this point; your only thought is him. Grabbing his collar, you pull him down into another kiss, accepting his challenge.

He wraps his arms under your ass and helps you up on the counter, placing himself between your spread thighs, continuing to ravish your lips. You unbutton his shirt while he runs his hands along your thighs. He pulls back and tosses his shirt aside before unzipping your pants and ripping them off, earning a giggle from you. He’s more delicate with your panties, kissing a slow trail along your body, until he pulls them off and kneels before you. 

Wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you to the edge, you can hear a groan when he finds you already glistening, ready for him. He bites down hard on the inside of your left thigh, calming the pain with wet kisses when you whine. Riling you up more, he drags his moustache across your skin before he rests himself in front of your entrance.

He eases his tongue into your folds, languidly exploring, enjoying every noise and twitch you make. Starting light he ramps his pressure up gradually, focusing on the bundle of nerves. When he feels you slowly grind into him, he enters his tongue into you, enjoying the sounds of your moans. 

You snake your hand through his hair, tugging slightly. Blinded by your lust, you mindlessly guide him as his mouth pulls your orgasm closer. Adding a last element, he uses a finger to press small circles into your clit and you peak, using his face to ride out your pleasure.

He doesn’t let up. He continues to lap at you even after you release your hold on his hair. He’s determined to get another out of you. He focuses his effort on your clit, sucking the already sensitive bud. Gathering slick from your drenched pussy he lathers two fingers and enters them into you, curling to hit that sweet spot. “Fuck,” you scream. His mouth continues to latch onto your clit while his fingers send you higher and higher with each tap against that spot. The wave starts in your toes and flows all the way through as you clench around his fingers with your second release. 

“Fuck, Peña,” you sigh as you regain your vision, gazing down at the gorgeous man between your thighs.

“What? Not enough?” he teases when he rises to stand, arousal coating his face, some dripping down his neck.

You giggle and reach out for him, wanting to look into those heated eyes of his. He plants his hands on the counter on either side of you and you cup his face to give him a tender kiss. He grunts into your lips, hands moving to wrap around and slide you off the counter. You shift away, raising your eyebrow, and ask him if he wants to keep going. He laughs softly before nodding, returning to your kiss.

Slowly stumbling to your bedroom engrossed in each other’s lips, Javi grabs at the bottom of your shirt, egging you to remove it. When you pull back and rip it off, he shoves you against the wall and ravishes your neck in a waterfall of wet kisses. His tongue is relentless as he unclasps your bra and tosses it aimlessly. You hook your fingers in his belt loops and push him backwards into your bedroom. 

Ripping his belt free, you drop it and unbutton his pants. He quickly steps out of his last remaining clothes and comes back to your mouth, cradling your lower back. You collect some arousal from between your legs in your hand and grip his cock, stroking it slowly. He tenses at your touch and his kisses get more aggressive, lightly biting at your lip. 

Almost breathless, he pulls away and whispers in your ear, “Lay down please.” You’re taken back by the sudden softness and can’t resist laying yourself down for him.

He props himself up by his elbows on the bed and curls your legs up over his shoulder, immediately diving his mouth back into your folds. In direct contrast to his soft action, he devours you mercilessly. His motions are more rabid, slightly nipping at your sensitive skin as his tongue soothes it over, pinching your thigh to add an extra sensation.

He watches your face contort in pleasure, loving how powerless you are to his touch. You arch your back, moaning deliriously, when he slides two fingers into you. The combination of the steady rhythm of his hand and the circles his tongue makes on your clit overwhelm your already wrecked core and for the third time that night Javi has you trembling as you cum. You need him now more than ever.

“Fuck me, Javi,” you demand, making sure to look him right in the eyes. He growls lowly and quickly readjusts so that he can line himself up to your entrance. His cock is throbbing from the lack of attention and easily slides into your soaked pussy. He plants his hands on either side of you to ground himself before setting a brutal pace. You grip his wrists, wrapping your fingers around them, to counter his force and stay in position.

He leans down, burying his face in your breasts, licking at whatever he comes in contact with, while his pounding devastates. You moan his name loudly when he bites down on the sensitive flesh. It’s hearing his name come so desperately out of your sweet mouth that does him in and he peaks, stilling his hips, filling you with his cum. You feel his weight rest on top of you as you clench around his cock, milking him for all he has. 

He lays on you as you both try to control your breathing. You release your hold on his wrists to intertwine your fingers into his, offering a tender touch. He lifts his head and gazes lovingly into you with those brown eyes before delicately kissing you. It’s bliss having him so close for so long.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours before removing himself from you completely. Helping you up, he leads you to the bathroom so you both can clean up. He collects all his scattered clothes and you throw on some loose clothes to sleep in.

He returns to your room fully dressed with a lit cigarette and sits on the edge of your bed. You walk over and stand in between his spread legs, wrapping your hands around his head when he lays it against your stomach. The soft moment is gone when he grumbles, “I’ve got to go.”

It breaks your heart but you do your best to hide your hurt when you respond, “Ok Javi.” You wonder why you do it, why you put yourself through the torture of fucking him when you know he’s going to leave. It’s getting harder and harder to rationalize to yourself that casual is better than nothing.

He perks up at his name, trying to find your eyes that are stuck on the ceiling. He wanted to hear you say it but he didn’t want it to be so devoid of feeling. He knows it’s his own fault though. He stands up and takes a drag of his cigarette before stamping it out in the ashtray and walking to the front door with you. 

He turns to you once he’s out in the hallway. “I have to take a trip soon but we should do dinner again. I have another place I think you’d like.”

“Ok Javi,” you repeat with a slight chuckle while rolling your eyes. He smiles slightly and flashes a wink before heading to his apartment and closing the door.

The bittersweet end of the night sends your thoughts into overdrive. You like Javi. You like his grumpy nature, his handsome face, his fucking cock, but he has said many times not to expect anything. And you don’t expect anything, but you sure do  _ want _ for something. 

If this is how he is with all his women, it makes sense why he has to draw a line. They all must be in love with him. You have to find a way to separate your love feelings and your horny feelings or you’re not going to be able to contain them. And you’re not ready to let this end just because of that.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javi and Reader are spending a lot more time with each other. The Murphys' have a surprise. Both Javi and Reader are hopeless, for equally stupid reasons.

Things are different now, at least they are for you. Seeing Javi regularly has only intensified your feelings for him. It was much easier when he would show up randomly, only wanting one thing. You didn’t have time to get to know him before he was out the door again. But now, despite his hectic schedule, he’s making plans with you in advance, reserving chunks of your time, giving you ample opportunity to fall for him.

The first couple of times he offers dinner, he casually mentions it during a smoke break, dropping the name of a restaurant you haven’t been to yet. He talks up a signature dish or praises the chef and when you express interest, he offers to bring take-out to your apartment. It’s, of course, always delicious. The bastard knows his food.

But now since you’ve tried all his regular places, he’s back to his cocky self. He’s taken to calling your office at random times of the day. And when you pick up, he doesn’t introduce himself, just asks things like, “How about La Villa tonight?” You know who it is, you know he’s offering the special platter you both love, you know he’s just being dramatic, but you can’t help but be charmed by it. It’s hard not to smile into the receiver, hoping he can’t hear the butterflies in your stomach through the phone. Those calls make you feel like the center of the world..

But if Williams is in the office, you have to pretend it’s a work call, saying things like, “The usual order should be enough. Thanks for double-checking.” You know Javi will tease you later but you’d rather that than have Williams press you for details about your plans. He’s been trying to get you to hang out with him more since he started dating Luz, a lovely and friendly woman with major culinary talent. You adore them both but lately you’ve only been able to handle so much Williams in a day. 

With long hours at the office and semi-regular dinners, you’ve been around him too much and he’s starting to feel like an annoying little brother. You love the guy, but some time apart wouldn’t hurt. If he got wind of you seeing someone regularly he would start asking for double dates, not that what’s between you and Javi is anything more than casual of course… 

The extra hours outside the bedroom have led to many interesting conversations with Javier. You can talk about anything with him. From the struggles of working between two governments to Gremlins, you’ve covered it all. It always catches you by surprise when he suddenly gets animated, never truly knowing what’s lurking inside that pensive brain of his. You never imagined how passionate the man would be when talking about the difference between whiskey and bourbon at your kitchen table, but you love seeing the passion pour out of him.

You also have learned more about each other’s quirks. He teases you for your insistence that he take his shoes off as soon as he comes into your apartment and for the way your nose scrunches when he says something you disagree with. (You don’t care, he’s wrong. Xanadu is a classic and you don’t regret seeing it in theatres three times when you were younger.) And you tease him for spraying on extra cologne before he comes over and for only ever drinking whiskey, which you feel goes against his nature because to quote yourself, ‘it’s unlike him to only commit to one thing’. 

You try not to bring up his job too much, pressing him for specifics only closes him off. And typically those are the nights he leaves right after dinner, staying away for a few extra days too. As much as you want to help him deal with the horrors he sees, you have to wait for him to bring it up.

Dinner fades into drinks, drinks fade into kissing, kissing fades into sex. It all blurs together, lost in the ecstacy of being with him. Every smile, every laugh, every touch is electric. You ride the high all the way through until you collapse on your bed, satisfied. It never lasts long though. Your dream shatters each time he grumbles an excuse and leaves.

It breaks your heart over and over again. In an instant his whole demeanor changes. It’s as if he’s doing it on purpose. The cold, clothed and gruff Javi is so different from the warm, naked one that’s tangled up in you. You don’t understand how he switches so quickly. 

And sometimes you never know when he’ll be back. You know you’re not a priority but the long stretches kill you. It feels like he disappears for longer after the more intimate nights you share. The closer you think you are, the farther he runs. 

Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you be honest with him? You promise yourself to tell him how he makes you feel, how you ache for him when he’s gone. The feelings build up in between his visits, practically screaming at you to beg him to stay. But you ask for nothing. Every time you see him the anguish fades away. You’re just happy to have him for the time that you do, joking with him like no time passed. 

**~~**

You get one hell of a shock when the Murphys’ door opens to let you in for dinner. “A baby?” you yell in surprise.

Connie is ecstatic. She’s cradling a little girl in her arms and is beaming from ear to ear. She’s wanted this for years. “Her name is Olivia.”

“Olivia, how sweet,” you say as she leads you to the living room where the other usual characters are sitting. Everyone is overjoyed at the new addition, a symbol of hope in the deadly turmoil that clouds the country. Connie and Steve are the happiest they’ve looked in months, their house seems brighter somehow.

“Steve brought her home,” she says, cozying up next to him on the couch. The sight of the three of them together pulls at your heartstrings. 

She tells you about how Javi and Steve found Olivia on their last chase. Steve had called her because he couldn’t leave the girl behind knowing what happened to her family. Connie, of course, jumped at the chance to adopt her and changed her whole life to make it happen.

Steve is quiet but overjoyed, letting Connie tell the story as he watches little Olivia shift in his wife’s arms. All he cares about in the world lies with these two girls. He never wants to be without them. 

“Who’s going to be the godmother? Alicia?” you tease, unable to resist making the joke.

Connie bursts out laughing. Javi and Steve are confused as to how it could have been  _ that _ funny, but they are very behind in their Alicia drama. Alicia had recently been caught eating someone else’s lunch on break. Evil never rests. “No,” she responds, “It’ll be my sister.”

Dinner is entertaining as the Murphys are still adjusting to life with a baby. First she’s fussy, then she’s hungry, then she’s laughing. They fawn over her every move, responding to her every sound. It’s hard not to be amused while they scramble to please her. This girl is going to be so spoiled.

For the first time ever, you and Javi are shooed out of the apartment right after dinner. The quickly closed door confirms their new priorities: baby first, booze and friends second. 

“Well there go our late night drinks,” you joke. “How else will we spend our evenings?”

“I can think of a couple ways,” Javi groans, holding onto your waist as you cross the hall.

“Oh yeah, I can finally read Lord of the Rings. It’s been sitting on my shelf for months,” you say as you place your hands over his. Javi pouts. You know that’s not what he wanted to hear but couldn’t resist.

He follows you into your apartment without you asking him to. He didn’t even look at his own door. You slip off your shoes, turn on the TV for background noise and slump against the edge of the couch, flexing your tense feet. Javi begrudgingly removes his too before plopping into his spot next to you, making sure to complain about having to leave his shoes by the door. You chastise him for being dramatic as you wince from the pain shooting from your toes.

“So you really just found her there, huh?” you ask, laying your legs across Javi’s lap. He lightly massages your feet, pressing his calloused fingers into them to release the tension. He stays quiet, his face strained. You hope he’s not going to leave. You didn’t realize it would bring up something bad. 

“They were all dead,” he says while staring at the floor, his hands stilling to simply hold onto you. He looks exhausted, his face suddenly hollow, no light behind his eyes. His shoulders are hunched like he’s carrying the burden physically, the memories paining him. You swallow a gasp as you try not to move, fearing he’ll stop talking if you interrupt. 

“We weren’t fast enough,” he continues. “Escobar’s men got to them all. We searched the place after the gunfire stopped and found her.” He turns to you and a pit forms in your stomach. The look of absolute anguish on his face almost brings you to tears immediately. The thought of how many stories like this he carries by himself weighs heavy on your heart. There is so much pain in him that you’ll never know, never be able to cure. 

“Steve and I knew we couldn’t leave her,” he says. “Not with her mom dead right next to her. Not with her other family dead in other rooms. She wasn’t even crying, she didn’t know what happened. She’s so fucking lucky for Steve. He called Connie. He didn’t give adopting her a second thought. Everything that girl would ever know was gone in minutes, but Steve was able to fucking do something about it. She’s going to have a good life. If it was just me, I don’t know what I would have done. What could I have fucking done.”

As he starts to turn on himself, you reach out for his face, swinging your legs back so you’re kneeling on the couch. He’s not going to cry but you can feel the weight of his sadness in your hands while stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Javi you did good. That little girl is ok.”

“They weren’t even that involved.” He looks away from you again. He'll break if he looks back into your worried eyes. “It’s bullshit. I feel so fucking useless. I kiss ass, play by the rules and he buys people out and wins. So many people die because of that asshole.”

You turn and lay your back against his chest, noticing your eye contact is making him uncomfortable. Everything he says breaks your heart. You know that he is giving it his all, his whole being, but still it feels like they haven’t made a dent in the case. “Javi, you’re trying. You haven’t lost. You will get him. Javi, a little girl has a family again because of you. She is not going to go live in an orphanage because of what you did. Javi, you did good.”

You feel him take a very deep breath and exhale slowly. He runs his hands down his face and his arm hooks around you, resting on your thigh. You intertwine your fingers with his and tilt your head to look up at him. “Javi, look at me” you say. He stalls at first but slowly he turns his face to you. His sad brown eyes find yours and he focuses on the one person he never wants Escobar to find out about. 

You try to speak as directly as possible, no quiver in your voice. “You are good. Believe me.” You give him one sweet kiss and curl into him, resting your head against his chest as you aimlessly look at whatever is on the TV. You’re not even watching, just putting your eyes somewhere other than on him. 

Letting out a long breath, he holds you tighter and places a kiss in your hair before allowing his head to fall back against the top of the couch. There’s no need to say anything else, both perfectly comfortable in each other’s embrace. 

After a while, you feel him start to breathe rhythmically, his arm losing its grip on you.  _ He’s asleep.  _ You don’t dare move in fear he’ll wake up. He deserves a rest. The man makes himself sick with work. And selfishly you don’t want him to leave. You’ll miss the smell of smoke and cologne in your nose, the warm heat of his body finally at peace, the gentle caress of his hand in yours. You let yourself sink into him, slowly closing your eyes as you listen to the chatter in the background.

You’ve just about succumbed to sleep when he jolts awake. A little disoriented, he instinctively grabs your hand tighter, looking around to remember where he is. You tilt up to look at him, your voice heavy with exhaustion, “What’s wrong Javi?”

He smiles down at your dazed face, so pretty in the harsh blue lights coming from the television. But his peace is gone when he glances over to find Escobar’s picture and a news report about another local murder. He’ll never escape this, but you can. He hardens his voice and says, “I should go home.” 

You squeeze his hand and lay your head back down on his shoulder. “No Javi, you’re so comfy.”

He laughs silently. He should have realized you’re not going to make it easy for him to leave. “You’re tired. You need to go to bed. I should go.”

“You need to sleep too,” you say, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

It takes all his strength to break from your comfort. He nudges you forward and slides himself off the couch. He crosses the room to put on his shoes. “You have work in the morning.”

“You could stay the night you know,” you call out when he opens the door. “If that’s something you wanted.” 

You see his jaw clench and swear a tinge of pain flashes across his eyes as well. “Goodnight,” he replies as he leaves, the door shutting behind him. The apartment quickly grows cold with the loss of him.

**~~**

“Oh my god Javier,” you yell, pulling him quickly through your doorway, examining his ragged figure. “What the fuck happened?” His chiseled face is adorned with bruises that promise to deepen overnight, his lip busted and swollen, his cheek checkered with red cuts that you assume come from scraping against pavement. The damage shocks you but the lack of distress in his brown eyes keeps you from freaking out fully.

“There was a misunderstanding, some bad information,” he says, letting you fuss over him, “It might have gotten out of hand.” 

You scoff at his ability to joke when he stands so beaten before you. Pulling his jacket to the side, you notice the red stripe wetting his shirt. “Javier,” you shout, “What the fuck is this?”

He groans as you lightly poke at the wound. “There might have been a knife involved.” Widening your eyes, you bunch his jacket in your hands trying to quell the anger bubbling inside of you. “Don’t worry,” he pats your head reassuringly, “It’s just a message. They can’t touch me, it would be all over for them.”

“Obviously they can touch you,” you spit back. Shaking your head, you pull him into your bathroom and lean him against the sink. You scramble to find some washcloths and bandages to address his wounds. 

Ever the unbothered bastard, Javi says nothing while you wipe the dirt and blood off his face, only wincing occasionally when you push too hard. You take off his shirt and jacket to examine the wound on his chest and relax when you find it’s in much better shape than you had imagined. While very bloody, it turns out to be a vertical line across his peck that barely cuts into him. He got lucky that it's easy enough to clean out and bandage. 

Discarding all the mess, you return to him, finally able to breathe. Leaning up against the doorway, you take a moment to look him over.  _ Goddammit _ . He’s still as handsome as ever beat up in your bathroom, maybe even more so with the bruises making you focus on his features, that jawline, that nose. You should be mad at him but your feelings subside as he reaches his arm out to you.

“Don’t be mad,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze. Pulling you to him he plants a kiss on your cheek before laying your head against his shoulder. Tender moments like these remind you of why you put up with his bullshit, he doesn’t even know how tightly you’re under his spell.

“You’re impossible Javi,” you sigh, dragging your hand down his chest, “You have no right looking this hot after being so stupid.”

“Oh?” he questions as your hand sails further south. Landing on his bulge, your fingers rub gently, encouraging it to grow. He lifts your head up to pull it closer to his for a tender kiss, wincing a little on contact, but bearing it to keep your lips on his.

You lower yourself to kneel before him, drawing his cock out for you to stroke. A devilish smile adorns your face when you feel him tense beneath you. “Next time you want to be so reckless,” you tease, taking him into your mouth briefly, “remember what you’ll be missing.” You lean your head forward and envelop his length, tightening your cheeks as you slide painfully slow back to the tip.

“Fuuuck,” he moans, his knuckles turning white gripping the sink. Holding his thighs for support, you take him again and again, letting your tongue taste as you slide along. You feel every twitch of his body in your hands while he watches you worship his cock between your lips.

Lust taking over, he tangles his fingers in your hair, slightly flexing them, restraining his urge to guide you. You force yourself to take him as far as you can, gagging when he hits your throat. As your eyes water you look up to meet his gaze and wink, feeling his cock throb when his mouth falls open, black drowning out his eyes.

His need overtakes and you allow him to thrust into you as he holds your head steady. He gently pulls himself along your taut wet cheeks until he’s almost out, bucking his hips until his cock reaches the back of your throat, devastating you with each stroke. Shamelessly fucking your face, you feel his legs begin to tremble while he mutters lowly.  _ He’s close _ . You purse as tightly as you can around him, tongue lapping as you brace yourself for his release. A few more ragged strokes and the cum spurts out in bursts down your throat, Javi’s strangled grunts filling the room.

You make a show of wiping away the extra spit while you swallow everything he gave you, dragging your fingers along your skin to collect it all. You tuck his cock back into his pants and stand up, kissing his cheek before you walk out of the bathroom. You pour yourself a glass of whiskey and wait for him in the kitchen.

Though you just sucked him off, you’re only now coming to terms with how beaten he is. You’re so quick to jump to sex before dealing with situations. It’s not your finest trait.

His job is obviously dangerous but you have never seen him with an injury before. If this is what a knife could do, you dare not think about what could happen with a gun. And he had knocked on your door so lightly, like it was no big deal. What if you were in the shower and he bled out in the hallway waiting for you? You dig through your junk drawer and find your spare key. You’re going to make him take it.

When he emerges from the bathroom, shirt and jacket back on, you’re facing away from him gripping the counter. He walks over and wraps himself around you, nestling his face in your neck. He intended to stay close but the friction on his cuts makes him wince and he has to pull back to keep from crying out. He can’t let you know how bad it actually hurts. 

“Javi,” you say, looking forward at the wall, “I have something for you.”

“Oh yeah?” he says slyly, wondering what surprise is coming now.

You turn around and place the key in his hand, curling his fingers around it so he can’t drop it. “You need to take my spare key.”

Stunned, he takes a step back. “What the fuck? Why are you giving me this?”

“I can’t have you bleeding out in the hallway. Javi, you scared me.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?”

“I’m not going to use this.” He crosses his arm like a petulant child.  _ Just take the damn key Javier. _

“Relax Javi, friends have keys to each other’s places. I made Connie her own a while ago. This is my spare. I’m not saying use it every time. It's for emergencies, which you seem prone to, so I’m sure I’ll be tending to your wounds again given your track record.” You speak plainly so he knows you’re not fucking around.

Accepting defeat, he concedes and slips the key into his pocket. “Fine,” he grunts as he places his hands on his hips, looking at you like you’ve made him kiss CIA ass.

Even when he’s impossible you can’t help but want him.  _ The bastard. _ “You’re going to take the damn key and you’re going to like it, Agent Peña,” you demand teasingly, reaching your arm out to give his shirt a tug.

“Or else what?” he says, cocking an eyebrow and leaning over to place his hands on either side of you on the counter. 

You lunge forward and capture his lips in yours. He winces when your noses bump together but doesn’t pull away, instead slipping his tongue into your mouth. He’ll endure the stinging pain to keep tasting the whiskey in your kiss.

He groans and pulls his mouth away when you accidentally press your hand over the cut on his chest, killing the mood with sharp pains. Remembering you’re mad at him, your attitude changes on a dime. “Alright Javi, get out,” you quip sternly.

“What? I’m fine,” he protests, trying to go in for another kiss. You dodge his face and deny him, sticking to your decision.

“I’m not going to entertain this anymore. Yes, you look hot but you can’t put yourself in that stupid situation again. Take back-up.”

He rolls his eyes and steps away from you, placing his hands on his hips again. “My whole job is a stupid situation. What would you have me do?” The sass radiates off of him.

You spit back quickly, “Listen  _ doll _ , I know what’s important. Stay smart or I won’t be so kind next time when I’m dressing your wounds.” It feels so sweet to use his own words against him. You try so hard to keep your smile down, pretending to be serious, but it peaks at the corner of your mouth and Javi notices. 

He pushes his tongue against his cheek and closes his eyes to keep from bursting into laughter. He cannot even believe what you just said, but he damn well loves you for it. He rushes to you, cupping your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, the kind of kiss you can feel in your knees. Your eyes flutter open as he pulls away, leaving you dazed. 

He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out the key again, holding it up to show you he still has it. “I’ll be smart,” he says softly before tucking it back away before crossing to the front door. He glances at the floor and smiles to himself. “You know what was great about tonight?” he asks before opening the door.

“What?”

“You were so mad at me that you didn’t notice my shoes have been on this whole time,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“Get out of here Peña,” you scold, laughing while you grab at your face. He is literally bleeding in your doorway and all he’s thinking about is pulling one over on you.  _ The bastard. _

“See you,” he says, getting one last look at you before closing the door.

“See you,’ you repeat quietly to yourself, still thinking about that last kiss while propped up against the counter wondering when your knees will recover.

True to his word Javi never uses his key in the month that follows, continuing to knock twice each time he comes over. The visits, however, have been increasing in number. He hasn’t been out of town much lately and you’re having dinner two or three times a week. 

Sometimes he still pops over without dinner, just for your sweet dessert. All the attention is messing with your head, making you believe he wants more than he says he does. You’re afraid that one night you won’t be able to restrain yourself, words will slip out of your mouth that will drive him from you for good. ‘It’s fine,’ you rationalize to yourself, ‘You’re already his whether or not he is yours.’

**~~**

Being a very good friend, you allow Connie and Steve their first date night since adopting Olivia. Connie brings her into your apartment with plenty of supplies and prepared food. She trusts you but the nurse in her wants to make sure everything is taken care of so she also made you a list to follow.

You manage to shoo Connie out to a waiting Steve after a few minutes and repeatedly assure her that everything will be fine until she’s out of earshot. Sighing, you turn back and find a happy Olivia, doing nothing but being a baby. She’s cute, you get why they dote on her all the time.

A couple hours go by and Olivia starts to get fussy. You place her in the highchair that Connie lugged down the stairs and scramble to figure out a new way to please her. You play a record and wildly dance around the room to entertain a now giggly Olivia, your limbs jolting every which way. Just when you’ve finally got your groove going, it all goes wrong. On an uneven step, you land on one of the toys Olivia had been playing with and lose your balance. In trying to stabilize yourself, you reach out for the counter but instead knock the two glasses that were drying off near the edge, sending them to the ground with a resounding shatter; your own body following just behind them as you scream out ‘fuck’ on the descent. 

Even though you’re mortified on the floor surrounded by broken glass, Olivia finds the debacle hilarious. She thinks it was an epic finale to your dance recital. Luckily you didn’t land on any glass pieces. Unluckily, you did land on your arm and you just know the bruise will be wicked. You pick yourself off the floor, wincing when you have to put pressure on your forearm, and find the dustpan to start cleaning up your disaster.

You’re scooping a chunk of glass into the trashcan when your door swings open.  _ Javier _ . You watch as his stressed face turns to confusion while taking in the scene. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He definitely didn’t need to grab his gun with the spare key. 

Your heart swoons when you see him. He busted through your door like it was no problem, the testosterone radiating off him. Suddenly you feel bad for anyone he has hunted down, the fire in his eyes alone could scare them. You, however, take the moment to tease him. “Thought you weren’t going to use that key?”

“I was in the hallway. I heard…and you screamed…and…what happened?” he stammers, trying to lower his heart rate.

“I was trying to entertain Olivia here and I slipped, making a mess of everything.” You finish cleaning up the glass and gesture to the trash can. “But it’s all taken care of now.”

He drags his hands over his face and smiles, relieved that it was just you being an idiot. His panic immediately returns though when you groan in pain, bumping your arm against the counter. “What’s wrong?” he asks, running over to you, his stomach drops watching you cradle your arm.

“I may have landed on my arm. It’s fine but it sure will be one hell of a bruise.” You try to smile through the pain but the stinging lingers. “I just have to survive until Connie and Steve get home, then I can rest it.”

“No, I can help. What do you need?” he says earnestly. The look of distress in his eyes makes you realize his need to help you is greater than your need to be helped.

“Ok Javi, you can help,” you say, patting his cheek with your hand. You send him to move Olivia to the mat with her toys while you grab some frozen veggies out of your freezer. 

Olivia seems content with her new situation and immediately becomes enthralled with a set of stackable buckets. You figure she’ll be fine until her parents come for her. It’s nearing 10pm anyway and you don’t expect the Murphys to be out much later, especially with the way Connie has been parenting.

Sitting down next to Javi on the couch to ice your arm, you both watch Olivia explore. “Why were you in the hallway?” you ask. 

“I was on my way out,” he answers shortly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. If you need to go—”

“No,” he cuts you off. “I can wait a little longer.” He wraps a hand around your thigh.

“Whatever you want to do,” you say, though you’re thankful he’s not leaving just yet.

Olivia is enjoying everything in her sight, it’s all entertaining. She’s giggling, she’s babbling, she’s batting those big eyes at you. You’ve never thought about kids, they are not currently on your mind at all, but this little chunk makes your heart full. You get why Connie hates leaving her.

“She’s so beautiful,” Javi says, eyes stuck on Olivia. He turns to you, his face beaming with adoration. Even  _ the _ Javier Peña has fallen for her charm. Connie and Steve are going to have their hands full when she’s older. 

You ruffle his hair with your hand, smiling at his handsome face. “She’s here living this wonderful life because you saved her Javier. You did good.”

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, slightly smiling. Somehow he can believe it when you say it. Glancing at the watch on his wrist his grin falls.  _ Shit.  _ He’s really running late now. He panics thinking about your injury. “Are you going to be alright if I leave? You can handle her still?”

“Yes Peña, I am capable,” you chide. “But they should be here soon anyway. Go, do your job.” You swat his arm playfully. You hope that it’s work and not something else.

He takes his leave, stealing one more look at Olivia before disappearing behind the door.  _ Oh man.  _ You remember the way he had burst through that door earlier ready to protect you. If he didn’t have to go you definitely would have given him a reason to stay.

With him gone, you look around at the mess this baby has caused in just a few hours, both you and the room look like a trainwreck. You try to figure out what you’re going to say to Connie to convince her that it was a good night and that injuring your arm while watching her daughter was a one time thing and won’t become a common occurrence. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess i went against canon a lil bit and had Connie and Steve be happy about Olivia from the get go. I only remembered that they loved their little girl but on a re-watch I found out that they did struggle with whether to keep her or not. Since they end up a happy family anyway, I just decided to skip that particular drama point.
> 
> This one is a little on the short side but next one is almost double the size.
> 
> A sweet little chapter that is definitely the calm before the storm...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One perfect day leads them to a point they can't go back from.

Finally you’re able to have a lazy Sunday, no responsibilities, no plans, no nothing. Waking up without an alarm, you start your day in the late morning feeling incredibly well rested. There’s no rush for anything, so you turn on the radio, take a leisurely shower, and dress in some loose pants and a spaghetti strap top in that color that makes your eyes pop.

By some miracle, Colombia is not drowning in humidity and you open the windows, closing your eyes to enjoy the breeze rolling in. You make yourself a small lunch and eat it next to the windowsill, basking the peace of the moment. 

Shuffling through your apartment, you complete odd tasks that you have been meaning to do forever. Connie will be so proud when she finally sees the mirror and paintings you had picked up months ago hanging on your walls. She was right, they do make the place look homier. 

You also find that copy of Lord of the Rings you had bought on a whim. Williams had recommended it while you both were perusing the English language section of a bookstore and you’d thought you’d have ample time to read it. The dust on the cover proves you were wrong. But today, your schedule is free enough to visit some Hobbits and curl up in your armchair, excited to escape Colombia and it’s drama for a while.

Thoroughly engrossed in Middle Earth, you’re annoyed when someone knocks on your door. You begrudgingly shut the book to go ask who dares interrupt your concentration. You’re happily surprised to find Javi outside, leaning one arm against the door frame. He looks good, like he got at least one full night’s sleep. 

“Hey Javi. Need something?” 

“You having a party?” he asks. He seems oddly uneasy. His body is relaxed but his eyes dart behind you, trying to look further into your apartment.

You roll your eyes, there’s no way the radio is making that much noise. “No, Javi. It’s my first lazy day in a while. I’m just reading and enjoying not dying of heat stroke.” 

He put his hands in the pockets of his brown jacket. “So you’re not expecting anyone?”

“No. Should I be?” you ask, face scrunching in confusion. He’s being weird.

“No, I guess not,” he huffs.

“Alright then Javi,” you pause for a moment, waiting for him to add something. He doesn’t, instead choosing to rake his eyes over your body. You roll your eyes, he’s not on your to-do list today. “If you don’t need anything I would like to get back to my book.”

Zapping out of his trance, he apologizes, “Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

“Bye Peña,” you grumble, closing the door. 

Though he’s constantly flooding your thoughts, you would actually rather have a calm afternoon than a quickie with him, if that’s what he was after. One day without pining for him will do you good, better to worry about Frodo and his struggles than your own.

A few minutes later, you groan when there are another two knocks on your door. You had just gotten back into the story. 

You’re very confused when you see the handsome man responsible for the intrusion. Once again, Javi is standing in your doorway, this time without his jacket but with a book. “I figured I’d come give you company,” he says with a sly smile.

Chuckling, you let him in, too curious to say no. If Javier Peña wants to come over in the afternoon to read in the same room as you, he's welcome to it, it is a thing friends do after all. You return to your seat in the armchair and he spreads out on the couch, though you’re confident he’ll eventually end up shifting to fit into that divot he’s been slowly forming in the cushions. Both of you open your respective novels and dive back in.

Of course Javi would be reading The Silence of the Lambs. Leave it to him to use his free time to read about a different police hunt for a fugitive, the man can never relax. Looking him over in between chapters, you marvel at how expressive his face is. The scowl, the shifted jaw, the strained eyes, he’s fully invested. If he’s this intense when he’s on Escobar’s case, it's no wonder he gets a lot of informants to confess, you’d cave too. You try to shake away the thoughts of wanting to get him out of that yellow shirt so you can return to your reading.

Your stomach starts to rumble when the light outside shines a bright orange near the horizon. You hadn’t noticed, but multiple hours have passed by and now it’s nearing the night. You happily place your bookmark way further than it was this morning and check your fridge. 

Luckily, there’s enough to make a semi-interesting dinner without having to go out for groceries. Glancing over to Javi, your heart skips a beat when you find him looking out the window, book down, face illuminated in the golden light of impending dusk. You hate to break the moment but you clear your throat and ask, “Are you staying for dinner? I have enough food for two.”

Turning to you, the shadowing on his face highlights his already striking features, not helping the thoughts you’ve been trying to suppress. The minute he takes to answer is agonizing.  _ It’s just dinner Javi _ . You’ve shared plenty by now.

Finally he speaks, “Yeah, what do you have in mind?”

Against the odds, he proves to be a great sous chef, chopping whatever you give him and stirring the mixture in the pan while you try to move on to more complex steps. He even plates dinner for both of you while you close the windows and turn off the radio in favor of one of your favorite records. It’s no surprise, though, when he also pulls two glasses and fills them with whiskey. He had bought you a bottle a while ago and he definitely already knows where you keep your liquor.

You make a good team and the dinner is delicious. It’s by no means as spectacular as the food from the hole-in-the-walls that Javi finds, but it somehow tastes better than what you usually make for yourself. He seems to enjoy it too, soft content sounds slipping past his lips on a few different bites. As his silverware hits the cleared plate, he gives you the most sincere compliment that you can’t help but become bashful over. With a body full of butterflies, you mumble something about him helping too and start clearing the table, trying to avoid the soft, endearing smile he has from watching you get so obviously caught off guard. 

While cleaning up the mess, Javi shocks you by dashing out the front door, claiming he’ll be right back. It would be like him to bail when it’s starting to get domestic. You can’t be mad though, he did help put things away. You’re just bitter about having to do the dishes on your lazy day.

You’re refilling the whiskeys when he returns carrying two records. You recognize the one he puts on, though you are genuinely shocked he owns it. You wouldn’t have pegged him as someone who enjoys the more disco side of life, even if he does dress like he’s stuck in the 70s. He looks damn fine in his clothes but the man changes for no trend. “Ok Peña,” you say, impressed, earning a smile from him.

You mindlessly bop along the room while turning on the lamps, filling the apartment with a warm glow. You can’t help but succumb to the call of the music and soon you’re swaying, whiskey in hand, not caring if you look goofy in front of him. Javi presses himself behind you and slides his hand up from your thigh before bracing your waist, matching the rhythm of his hips with yours. It feels divine to be dancing with him so close, his moustache tickling your cheek as he rests his face against yours.

He takes the glass from your hand and places it on the table before spinning you around to face him. He must know the tracklist by heart because he wraps your arms around his neck and pulls you in closer by your hips just as a low tempo ballad fades in. His unwavering gaze has you feeling utterly beautiful, like you’re his only thought, only need. Fearing what you’d see if you stay lost in those eyes, you lay your head against his chest and breathe in the smell of his cologne. He must have added an extra spritz before he came back because you don’t remember it being so strong earlier. You let your weight sink onto him, trying to hold onto this version of Javi forever.

When the song changes to another upbeat bop, you pull away to dance with over-exaggerated moves, the music calling you back from the suppressed yearning in your brain. You are by no means a skilled dancer but it doesn’t stop you. Javi rolls his eyes, declaring that there’s no way he’s joining you like that. “I’m going to have to be more drunk to deal with you like this,” he jokes.

“Is that a challenge, Javi?” you tease. His eyebrow perks up as he looks towards you. “Shots?” He groans but nods his head. 

Before you pass him one, you spot your checkerboard on a shelf and an intriguing idea forms. “Do you want to make it even more interesting though, Peña?”

“I’m listening,” he grumbles, eyes focusing on the sweat dripping down your neck from the bad dancing.

You grab the board and place it on the table. “Red or Black?”

“Checkers?”

“Strip Checkers, with shots,”

“Strip Checkers?” he asks in that low voice you swoon over. “Explain.”

“One shot for every 10 captured. One article of clothes for every game won.” You playfully tug on his collar.

He looks you up and down and is pleased to find how little you’re already wearing. “So what happens when you lose?” 

“Oh Javi, I would be more worried for yourself.” You release a button on his shirt but he grabs your hand before you can do any more.

“Start the game,” he growls.

The stakes are high. He’s won once and you’ve won twice, and it looks like you’ll have a third soon. You can tell the losses are starting to get to him; he’s had a cigarette in hand since the first game when he barely captured any of your pieces before you won. The second game restored his ego a bit when he edged out a win, though you both are starting to get sloppy because of the shots. The third game was when you realized how annoyed he was getting. He started scoffing when you would collect multiple pieces in one turn. The frown on his face when he took off his shirt was priceless. He’s already down to his underwear and you’ve only taken off your pants.

It's the fourth game though, and Javi has switched up his tactics. He’s realized he can’t beat you as is, you’re too good at the game. He has to use outside influence. At first, he tries nuzzling your neck when it’s your turn, focusing on him rather than the board. It works the first time but you catch on when he takes an unusually calculated move and banish him to the other end of the table. Then he loudly drums his fingers against the table, trying to break your concentration. The two pieces you collect on your next turn show him it didn’t work.

He finds your weakness when he starts teasing you, trapping you in a circle of banter. You’re staring at the board when he strikes his first blow, “Make your move,  _ doll. _ ”

You jerk up to see him smirking, knowing he struck a nerve.  _ The bastard.  _ You know he’s just saying it to get a rise out of you but you hope he remembers what happened the last time he said that to you. “Agent Peña, are you trying to get in trouble?” 

“No ma’am,” he answers, crossing his heart with his fingers. The giant grin on his face however, says otherwise. You’re just about to pick up your piece to move when he speaks again. “ _ Doll,  _ are you sure that’s what you want to do.”

“ _ Javier. _ ”

“Don’t you think you should get a man’s opinion first?” He must really want to win this game if he’s ready to die by your hand for it. 

“Do you know one I can ask?” you quip back, suddenly thinking of something evil.

He gestures to himself, pulling your focus to his defined chest. “Me. I know what’s best.” 

You pity him as he smirks. He won’t be so smug for long. 

“I know. I’ll ask Escobar for advice, then you’ll never beat me.” His mouth falls open, not expecting that sentence. You burst into laughter. His ego broke so quickly. 

“Oh you think you’re funny, huh?” he grunts while you keep laughing. He puts out his cigarette and crosses the room until he’s inches from you. His voice is low but you know Javi, he’s impressed. “That pretty mouth needs to shut up.” 

“Then shut it.” 

He wraps a hand around your throat loosely and kisses you forcefully. The alcohol and annoyance make him sloppy, teeth crashing against yours. You’re not complaining, dominant Javi makes you drip.

His hands move under your shirt and unhooks your bra, letting it hang against you before tugging at the top of your panties. Too eager to drag this out, you pull away and strip, standing to show off your naked figure. He follows your lead and removes his last item of clothing, rising to stand with you, eyes transfixed. He’s desperate for you, slipping a hand in your hair to pull you back into a kiss, his cock hard against your stomach, begging to be touched. But you’re not done teasing.

You push him back so he loses his balance and falls against the couch. “I’m getting away just like Escobar,” you tease, giggling as you scurry to your bedroom. 

“Oh fuck you,” he grunts, springing off the couch to follow you. Unwilling to lose again tonight, he’s caught up to you just as you pass through the doorway. Spinning you around, he flops you on the bed, closing the gap quickly as he leans over your body, pinning your arms above your head. “Maldita,” he growls before kissing your neck.

You wrap your legs around his thighs. “Fuck me, Javi.” 

He smiles and bites the sweet spot on your neck. He releases your arms to drag a finger through your slick. “Will that shut you up?”

You prop yourself up by your elbows. “I don’t know, guess you’ll have to find out.” 

He laughs as he adjusts to slide himself into your folds, deliciously groaning when his hips meet yours. He lays his hands on either side of you and you twist your fingers into his. His slow thrusts feel heavenly, each one making you blatantly aware of how well he fills you. His mouth doesn’t leave yours, tongue exploring, lips capturing your hums of pleasure.

With a shift of his hips, the angle is devastating. Each stroke landing against the sensitive spot inside while you whimper into his lips. Sensing your need, he releases his right hand to reach between your bodies and rubs the bundle of nerves that will surely send you over. You grasp the back of his neck on his contact, pulling him closer as you tense toward your peak. He adds more pressure and you’re there, clenching around his cock, clinging to him in the white-hot wave of release. His own peak is quickly behind yours. Ragged breaths fill your ears as he presses his cheek to yours, his muscles straining under your grasp while your cunt drains him of his cum.

Both of you collapse, trying to regain composure. He’s laying on top of you while you dance your fingers along his back. His face is buried in your neck, lips ghosting your skin, humming little content sounds as your nails trace him. With a blissful smile, your eyes are closed, simply trying to memorize the feeling of having all of him at once. 

Slowly he gets up, not wanting to, but knowing he won’t leave if he doesn't do it now.  He reaches out for your hand to help you up, leading you to the bathroom so you can clean. You both collect your clothes from around the apartment, slowly coming back down to reality. It takes him longer to re-dress as you simply slip a long t-shirt on for bed.

You’re already at the front door, waiting for him to tell you he’s leaving. You know the drill. You’re almost numb to this part of the routine at this point, barely registering its happening until the door is fully closed.

When he joins you, your heart melts seeing his still love-filled eyes. Usually he’s colder after his clothes are on, but he’s still looking at you like you’re the sun. Before you can unlock the door to let him out, he lunges at you. 

The urge to stay is too strong, the pull of your kiss too great, he pulls your mouth to his and kisses you with intense fervor. He can’t get enough of you today, any time spent away from your lips is wasted. Palming your bare ass under the t-shirt, he walks backward guiding you back to your bed.

When he hits the mattress, he stumbles and sits on the edge, pulling you down to straddle his lap, never leaving your kiss. Both of your lips are so swollen, your upper lip a little raw from the friction of his moustache. But you can’t stop, the magnetic pull of his need is never satisfied. 

After what feels like hours, you tear your mouth away for air and he continues to your neck, not missing a moment. His tongue tastes and nips at the sensitive skin, your moans only egging him on more. His hunger not fulfilled, he slowly makes his way to the tops of your breasts, alerting you to the fact that he has no plan to stop anytime soon.

Despite the incredible bliss of his touch, you pull his head away and rest your forehead against his, stopping his kisses. You’re exhausted. It’s got to be at least 3am at this point. “Lay with me Javi,” you whisper, taking his hand and sliding into the bed. 

He lies down on his back and you curl against his side, eyes already heavy as you lay your hand on his chest, feeling like you’ve found your matching puzzle piece. He tucks some hair behind your ear and leans down to kiss your forehead, a sweet tender way to end a lazy Sunday as you drift deeply into sleep.

The alarm shocks you awake, the harsh beeps releasing your inner Sauron when you slap the off button with more force than necessary. By the time you fell asleep it was the early hours of the morning, and now you’ve got to make it through the day running on fumes. 

It takes you a moment to realize there’s something missing.  _ Javier _ . He’s gone.

You’re already a decently heavy sleeper but the whiskey shots probably helped you knock out cold. You were so warm with him next to you, finally getting him to stay after months and months on end. He was still so handsome through your hooded eyes, his dark hair mangled, his lips puffy, his eyes drowsy with sleep. He couldn’t keep his mouth off of you. You had felt so adored, so loved, but he still left. 

All your feelings fall into a mush of grey. He just doesn’t care about you in the way you want him to. You have to stop expecting it from him. It’s not fair. No matter how you feel. No matter how much you read into his touch. 

A quick cold shower and some breakfast bring you to life and you’re back at work after another confusing night. God, it had been perfect until you woke up. You muster a good morning to Nicole before you shake the thoughts out of your head to start the work week. Entering your office you freeze when you see them, there’s a rose and a coffee in the center of your desk. 

You’re lucky Williams isn’t in yet so you don’t have to explain the absolutely dumbfounded look on your face. You honestly do not understand what Javi is doing. These are not things a casual friend does. Everything he does has conflicting meanings. You’re so confused it makes your stomach turn.

It’s so hard to focus the whole day. You forget to eat lunch. You’ve made so many little slip-ups throughout the day that Williams asks you if you’re feeling ill. Taking the chance to go home early, you feign a headache or oncoming flu. You’re not really sure, you just say it hurts. 

When you come home, there’s a note from Connie taped on your door inviting you to a ‘girl’s night’ dinner with her and Olivia. You smile and sigh. Somehow Connie knows exactly what you need. Growing more weary by the minute, you take a nap until it’s time to go upstairs, giving your brain it’s first break of the day.

**~~**

When she opens the door, Connie’s beaming face immediately puts you at ease. Admittedly with the addition of Olivia and your increased time with Javi, you’ve seen far less of each other than normal. You’d forgotten what a calming presence she is and your body melts into hers when she throws herself onto you for a hug.

As cute as ever, Olivia is in the living room, exploring the wonders of life and learning over and over again that carpet tastes very bad. You sit down on the floor with your back against the couch and she makes her way over to you, those big eyes filled with determination. You let her mess with you until she decides to test your skin with a bite. Swiftly, you whisk her into your arms and make her giggle until she settles down.

“It’s just about done, honey,” Connie says, poking her head out from the kitchen. You nod and carry Olivia over to the table to place her in her chair.

With food served and wine glasses filled, the long-winded catch up begins. Connie excitedly has so much to say and you listen with enthusiasm. You’re happy to let her talk, it gives you time to decide whether or not to bring up your own drama. Besides, it’s always entertaining to hear about the updates on Alicia. Apparently,  _ with good intentions _ , she accidentally gave everyone food poisoning after she brought an apology lunch for all after getting caught eating someone else’s. Honestly, what are the odds with that woman? 

After dinner, you can’t contain it anymore and decide that you will, in fact, dare to mention your internal conflict, careful not to leave any clues that it’s Javi you’re fawning over. It’s been agonizing keeping it all to yourself. 

“So Connie, I may be seeing someone…” you say hesitantly, expecting her subsequent squeal.

“How have you not said anything!” she huffs as her eyes double in size. She’s equal parts excited for you and hurt that you hid it from her.

“Well, I’m not sure if I’m seeing him or not…” you say, hanging your head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well we started off expressly casual, but lately it’s been different.”

“Different how?”

“Bringing me dinner, coming over just to hang out, spending hours with me before we have sex. He’s been acting very boyfriend-y. But he never spends the night. He keeps saying how casual our relationship is. But then I find presents that he’s dropped by and the way he kisses me…and I don’t know.” You’re worn out just talking about it, the rollercoaster of emotions flowing through you.

Connie’s mouth has dropped open at this point. “Ok, how have you been keeping all this from me?” You offer a sheepish apology smile. You can’t tell her the reason. She rolls her eyes. “Well, have you told him how you feel.”

You furrow your brow as you think. “No…actually I don’t think I have, expressly.”

“Well  _ maybe _ he’s holding back because he thinks all  _ you _ want is causal.  _ Maybe _ he would stay if you asked.”

Wow, you’re gobsmacked. She’s right. You’ve been so wrapped up in his shortcomings that you didn’t even realize you haven’t exactly been forthcoming with your own feelings. Despite everything bursting inside of you, you’ve never said it out loud. How could he know if you don’t say anything? He’s a lot of things but a mind reader is not one of them.

“Do you want a casual thing with him?” she asks.

You respond immediately, the words slipping out. “No, I think I love him.” The admission shocks you and her, both sitting in silence, letting the sentence linger.

“Well honey, I think you need to say something,” she says as Olivia starts to stir. Crossing the room, she tends to her daughter while you sit there, staring at the floor, the realization fully settling in. 

“I’m so afraid he’ll leave the minute I want something more. I’ve hinted at it before but he just shrugs it off. He’s so nervous around that topic. He disappears often and I think it’s to make sure I’m not attached.” Tears start to well in your eyes. You’re embarrassed at how worked up you’re getting.

“If what you’re telling me is true, I think he may be a bit more attached than you think.”

“Connie, I’m a mess.” You drag your hands down your face, trying to hold the tears in. You feel ridiculous that you can’t even control your emotions.

“Honey, it’s ok.” Her sympathetic look breaks your heart. You must look crazy. You feel so bad you haven’t been able to say anything to her. She’s been trying to find you someone for so long. You’re such a terrible friend. The guilt piles on to all your other feelings.

“I have to go, Connie. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what I’m doing.” You panic and stand, turning towards the door, trying to flee the situation.

She calls your name before you can get fully away. “You’ll never know if you don’t say anything.” 

You nod. You know she’s right but you have to get out of there before you start crying. You take your exit from her apartment and run as fast as you can into your own. Curling yourself into a blanket on the couch, you brace yourself for the sheer amount of emotions that are about to spill out of you.

You love him. You can’t deny it anymore. You fucking love Javier Peña. You’ve known it for a while but you’re finally admitting it now. 

You love the way he kisses you. You love the way his arm feels wrapped around you. You love the way his eyes squint when you make him laugh, how his whole body shakes. You love the way he stares into your soul, making you feel important and beautiful. You love how petty he is, how dramatic he is, how stubborn and brave he is. 

You can almost swear he feels similarly about you. But then he always leaves, even when you suggest he stay. Telling him the extent of your feelings will just push him further, ensuring he’ll leave for good.

Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe if you finally tell him everything, he’ll stay. You always just skirt around the issue, backing out at his first sign of distress. It’s better to say nothing and keep him than put it out there. 

But is it really? The lows are getting too much to bear, it’s physically paining you. You’re so mad at yourself. You’ve had countless opportunities to tell him, to confess, but you’re terrified of what he’ll say and have eaten your words every time. So you’ve let it build up inside and now, you’re bursting.

You open a bottle of wine and pour yourself a glass. Hours pass by as you pace your apartment, debating the positives and negatives of saying anything with yourself. You stress smoke some cigarettes, drink more than you should, and even finish the bag of chips you’ve been saving for another lazy day. You need all your bad comforts to help you through this emotional crisis.

It’s 1am when you finally buck up your nerve, aided with ample liquid courage. You’re going to knock on his door and tell him everything. He’ll be up, he’s always up at this hour. 

You don’t even bother with your shoes, you’re out the door walking to his apartment from the minute you stand up, fearing you’ll chicken out if you stop for even a moment. You’re standing right in front of his door when you pause, taking a deep breath, calming your shaking body. You raise your hand and are just about to knock when something you hear stills your hand. 

“Te gusta?” a female voice asks from behind the door. You’re frozen, unsure if you imagined it or not. The voice giggles and continues, “Qué quieres hacer, papí?”

The moan that follows the second question solidifies all your fears. You don’t know how long you stand there listening, but your whole body feels numb by the time you walk yourself back through your own doorway. Slumping into your armchair, too stunned for any emotion, your face is blank. 

You’re so stupid. You let yourself get wound up in him. He told you so many times he wants something casual and your dumb ass just kept catching feelings, kept reading into things. Well here’s your proof. You’ve spent all day thinking of him and he’s already drowning himself in someone else less than 24 hours after leaving your bed. 

How could you think you were so special? Everything he does with you he could be doing with so many others. The looks, the touches, the presents, they don’t mean what you want them to. You’re such a fucking fool.

You feel crazy. Are you even being rational about any of this? How did you get so caught up? It was just good sex and now you’re utterly devastated when you find him with someone else. What did you expect? What did you fucking expect? 

You sit in the shower, letting the hot water drip down your face chasing away the tears that have ceased to stop since they started falling. If it weren’t for the drain, you fear you’d flood your apartment with sadness. Feeling every single emotion you possibly could have, you’re exhausted. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t put yourself through this anymore. 

You turn off the water and get dressed for bed. As you fall into sleep, you make a promise to yourself. You’ll let yourself feel sorry tonight but you owe it to yourself to confess to Javier. The risks be damned.

**~~**

Deep in work, a friendly knock on your office door pulls you out of your concentration. You smile, recognizing the handsome man who’s paying you a visit. “Carlos, I wasn’t expecting you,” you say, rising to give him a hug. His embrace is strong, filling you with the smell of his cologne.

“I thought you might enjoy a surprise,” he responds with a giant smile. “Are you very busy?”

“For  _ the _ Señor Garza? Never,” you tease. “The Ambassador is away for the rest of the day. I can shuffle things around.”

“Perfect,” he says, glancing around the room. “Is Mr. Williams in?”

“He’s out for lunch. Why? Did you finally bring a gift for him or am I still the special one?” you joke.

He clutches his chest as he laughs. “Ah, no. You are still the special one. But I do have some serious news.”

Your glee turns to a concerned frown. “Shall we sit?” You offer him your chair and pull Williams' chair over to your desk for yourself.

He accepts the seat and smiles as he glances over your desk, picking up the alebrije he gifted you. “Ah, la rojita! You kept it?”

“It’s my favorite present you’ve given me.” You swear his eyes dazzle as he looks at you, making him more handsome than he already is. 

He clears his throat, wiping the smile off his face. “I will get right to it. My job has changed. I will not be coming down to Colombia much anymore. They have no more need for me.”

You grab his free hand in support. Your heart aches for him. “Oh no, Carlos. Is everything okay?”

He puts the alebrije down and pulls your hand to his lips to plant a soft kiss before releasing it. “Yes, everything is okay. It is not a demotion or a promotion, more of a side-step. I am more needed back home than traveling between the two countries.”

“Well I'm sad but that sounds like it will be good for you. Less planes.” You offer the last words as a bad attempt at a joke. It’s not your best work, but it’s what you can do considering the great sadness you’re suddenly feeling.

“Ah yes, less planes,” he chuckles, looking over to play with the alebrije again. His tone is slightly more serious when he adds, “But also, less friends, less you.”

He hands you the alebrije and you return it to it’s designated space on your desk. “Yeah that really stops all the presents doesn’t it?”

“Señora, is that all you think about?” he snickers. He clears his throat again and straightens his tie and suit jacket. Clasping his hands together, he holds his head high to find your gaze. His voice is now deliberately low and serious. “I hope you don’t think less of me when I say I am very fond of you.” 

You turn your chin into your shoulder to hide your bashful face. “Thank you, Carlos.” 

“You are an outstanding woman, who couldn’t be charmed by you,” he says almost to himself, glancing down to the floor. He shakes his head to re-focus, speaking very clearly. “I admit I have kept a professional distance…but soon there will be more of a distance than that between us…and I would hate myself if I did not ask you for a date before I go.” He offers a nervous smile when he finishes.

You cannot hide the surprise on your face. “Oh, wow.” He, however, can’t tell whether the surprise is good or not.

“I understand this crosses the formal line. I apologize if I overstepped,” he says sternly, almost chastising himself. 

You see him sit back in the chair, second-guessing his decision to ask you. You reach out and lay your hand on his thigh. “Carlos, I…want to say yes, but I don’t know if I can.”

He relaxes and another grin lazily adorns his face as he looks into your eyes. He takes your hand in his and pauses, savoring the moment. His reply is sweeter than expected. “I have waited a long time to ask you. It would be unfair of me to demand an answer immediately.” He plays with your fingers before letting your hand fall. “I leave Saturday evening. Shall I leave my Friday night open?” He looks so hopeful, the question lingering in the air.

_ He’s so sweet.  _ If he had asked you a few months ago, you’d have probably jumped at the chance, even still being co-workers. But currently you have doubt about everything love related. “Would that ask too much of you? I know you’re a very busy man. It’s not that I’m not interested I just-”

He cuts you off. “You need not offer an explanation for your hesitance,” he says sincerely. He grabs a piece of paper and pen laying on your desk and begins to write. “Here, this is the number to my room in the hotel. The government permanently owns the suite. It is a private line. Call anytime.” He places the paper in your hand, curling his fingers around yours. “I am biased but I do hope you have good news when you call.” The smile he gives you melts you to the core. 

Before you answer Williams walks in wiping crumbs off his mouth and breaks the moment. You’re slightly glad he did because you might have kissed Garza right then and there.

“Ah Señor Typo! Did you enjoy your lunch?” Garza asks Williams, rising to embrace him. 

“Moneybags, what a surprise! Are you staying long?” Williams asks.

“No, actually I am just leaving. I came to say goodbye, Ben. My job has changed and I won’t be down to visit for a long time,” Garza says solemnly. 

Williams’ face falls. “Oh, you’re kidding me?” he asks with only a tinge of hopefulness. Garza shakes his head ‘no’ with a pained expression.

As much as the two men tease each other, they do have a genuine friendship. Unlike you, Williams has taken Garza up on his after-work invites. He may not get presents, but Williams definitely gets plenty of free beers from the man.

“It is very good to see you, Ben. I hope we will meet again,” he says genuinely, slapping a hand on Williams’ shoulder. 

“We can if you give me one of those presents you’re always getting for her.” Williams nods his head in your direction as you roll your eyes. He’s always been so jealous of you. 

“Ah, I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll fit my budget. I have to prioritize.” Garza empties out his pants pockets for comedic effect. All three of you know how loaded the man is. 

“Then I guess this is goodbye,” Williams chides, sass radiating off his lips. Sharing their last laugh, Williams reaches out to shake Garza’s hand. “Goodbye Carlos, It’s been a pleasure.” 

“It has been the same for me.” Garza clasps his other hand over their handshake and nods to Williams. He turns to look at you one last time. “An ultimate pleasure to work with you too.” He puts his hands to his lips and sends you a small kiss before turning to leave. 

“Goodbye Carlos,” you whisper softly, mind in a daze. 

You switch back to your chair as Williams pulls his back to his station and slumps into it. “Man this sucks. I actually like that guy.”

“Me too,” you sigh, still caught up in the lovely words he said to you.

“Well of course you do. You’re his favorite,” he teases before diving into some papers.

You hesitate on whether or not to tell Williams about your full conversation. After a minute of dispute, you turn your chair to face him and practically shout, “He asked me out.”

_ “What!” _ Williams spins around, jaw on the floor.

“And I want to say yes?” you sheepishly add. 

He can only blink in total astonishment. He knew Garza liked you but he didn’t think he’d ever actually act on it. He also didn’t realize you might entertain the idea. “He’s leaving,” he manages to say.

“I know…but…” you mutter, grabbing your forehead. 

“You know what,” he backtracks, “He’s leaving. You like him. He likes you. Why not?” Cocking an eyebrow, he opens his hands out to you to accentuate his point. 

“Yeah…” you agree, turning back to your desk. Why not,  _ exactly _ ? You’re not in a relationship. You don’t have anything stopping you from going on a date with him. He won’t be your co-worker soon. There is an obvious attraction between the two of you. But there’s something…or rather someone….still holding you back. 

**~~**

You’ve seen a little of Javier since Sunday and it was never the right time to unload all your feelings. It’s only been a few days, but to you every minute has been excruciating. So when it’s Wednesday and he phones you about dinner from Tia Alma’s, you have to take a second to catch your breath before you accept.

You showered after work. You touched up your makeup. You dressed comfortable but cute, not wanting him to ask why you had dolled up more than usual. You’re so nervous waiting for him to knock on the door. It’s as if you haven’t had sex multiple times, haven’t been wrapped up in his arms and know extremely personal details about him. You’re sweating like it’s a first date, the mix of anticipation and dread tumbling around your empty stomach.

You’re startled when the time finally comes. The sound of the knocks make you jump and you let out a tiny gasp, not entirely sure if you have the balls to follow through. His dashing face is there when you open the door, a genuine smile splashes upon it before he kisses your cheek and enters the apartment. 

He’s so comfortable in your space. He knows where everything is, how everything works. Hell, the couch decided to give him his own personal indentation. How does he not realize he belongs here?

He sets up dinner on the coffee table in front of the TV. Apparently, there’s an old movie he loves coming on and he doesn’t mind translating if you can’t keep up. He almost seems giddy with excitement flipping through the channels, a side of him you haven’t seen yet. 

“I used to watch movies like these with my Dad. He loves them. I’ve bought a lot of them on VHS and sent them to him. They’re not easy to come by but it’s worth it. He’s lonely on the ranch and likes the distraction,” he says as he finds the movie and sinks back into the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

“You have a ranch, huh?” you ask. While you’ve learned many things about the man, his family and his past before Colombia aren’t among them. 

“Yeah, horses and everything. These hands aren’t just calloused from my work down here,” he jokes, reaching out to rest his hand on your thigh. Your heart skips a beat. You weren’t prepared for his touch and the words you want to say surge in your throat. He’s too distracted by the movie to notice the strain in your eyes as you fight the urge to blurt out your feelings.

The movie is a typical cowboy story, a real ‘this town ain’t big enough for the both of us’ situation. The local outcast is loved by the townspeople but hated by the town council. He’s a man that will do good first, ask forgiveness second. Women fawn over him but he’s too busy brooding to pay them any mind. He comes to town to dramatically shoot whiskey back at the bar and tip his hat to the children before retiring back to his lonely ranch just outside of town limits. A real macho stereotype.

Just as the movie is about to establish the love interest, seemingly out of nowhere Javier says, “I should call him more often.”

“Who?” 

"My Dad. Sometimes I try to forget about my hometown so much that I forget him too. He doesn’t deserve that.” He hangs his head, taking his eyes off the TV for the first time since the movie began.

“Hey, me too. I haven’t called in a while either. I’m trying to avoid some conversations,” you add, hoping your admission will help his guilt. “You’re not the only person I’m an asshole to.” You nudge him playfully and he lifts his head to smile at you before turning back to the movie.

Javi gets sucked back into the story. It’s cute watching him get excited, muttering translations that you’re not asking for. He tries to get every complex line at first but he just stops talking once he’s too invested. 

When there’s a comic relief scene he’s not particularly into he realizes that his dinner is still untouched on the table before him. You, however, have been pecking at yours for a while now, too hungry to wait for him to start.

“Man I feel like a kid again,” he sighs, sinking back into his spot, resting the plate on his lap. His eyes are wide with excitement as he takes a giant bite, only to let out a satisfied moan seconds later. “My mom used to make rice like this, her abuela’s recipe.” He stuffs more into his mouth. “She would make it on tough days. Like when they had to sell my first horse. And when she told me how sick she was…” His voice trails off as he looks down at the food, lightly pushing it around the plate with his spoon. “This is the closest I’ll get to having her cooking again.” His voice is devastatingly calm, the sadness sinks in.

Your heart aches for him. He puts his plate back on the table and buries himself in the cushions of the couch. His body language shifts away from the child-like glee of earlier, now instead he’s shadowed in grief.

You pick up your plate and push the remaining food onto his. “Then you better have every grain you can get,” you say, reaching out to rest your hand over his. The small gesture lifts his spirits enough to turn his focus back on the TV, curling his fingers into yours.

The rest of the movie is hardly of any note. The bad guy comes to town and threatens to burn it down if they don’t pay him. The town council holds a meeting and gets nothing done. The love interest goes to find the hero so he can save everyone.  _ Smoochy Smoochy.  _ Bad guy holds the bar/brothel hostage and when the town surpasses his first deadline, he kills the barkeep. The hero of course busts in to save the day, cowboy style. You have a hard time believing Javi would like this movie if he didn’t have the cloud of nostalgia floating over it.

“See! Watch this!” Javi says, watching the two men prepare to duel in the middle of the street. “This is what I wanted to do. See how he just takes Juarez down.” He’s leaning forward now, elbows resting against his thighs, intently watching. You can see him smile as the villain falls to the ground, but it fades when the townspeople come to thank the hero. “I was so naïve. It’s not as simple as getting rid of one guy. If that were true, I wouldn’t have been down here for nearly a decade already.”

“Javi, you’re going to get him. He’s going to run out of friends,” you say to soothe him. 

“If Pacho had to get permission to arrest Juarez instead of taking him out right when he had the chance, more than the barkeep would have died. The fucking bureaucratic hoops do more damage than good,” he says, gesturing at the screen while the hero receives a medal from the town council.

Not wanting him to spoil the night for himself you joke, “Sounds like someone has a problem with the government.”

“What? No babe, that would be un-American of me,” he says, chuckling as he wraps his arm around to pull you to his side. 

_ Babe.  _ The word repeats itself in your head over and over. 

Finally it’s finished. The movie ends with the hero and the love interest back on his ranch outside the city, all is calm as the camera pans over the hills. Javier sighs when the credits roll, “Damn, still good.”

“You’re just a soft Texas boy under all that sass aren’t you,” you tease, dancing your fingers across his chest.

“I wouldn’t say I’m so soft right now…” he taunts, grabbing your hand to guide it down his chest.

“Agente Peña, qué malo…” you chide when your hand finally reaches the destination he wants.

“C’mere baby I—” he freezes, seeing your expression change. 

He’s never used pet names with you, besides  _ the one that gets him in trouble _ , but he’s used them twice tonight. Your heart knots thinking maybe he’s ready for something more too. “I shouldn’t have called you that I…” he stammers, leaning away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

You re-adjust to sit against the arm of the couch, criss crossing your legs and holding your own hands for support. This is it. You’re incredibly nervous but you need to do this. “Javi, I need to talk to you,” you say cautiously. His face shifts toward you, arms crossed around his torso. The guarded nature of his body language is matched by the worry in his eye. What does he think you’re going to say? You take a deep breath before you say it as confidently as you can, “I love you.”

“Don’t,” he responds barely above a shaky whisper, almost fearful. 

“What?” You hope you misheard him but the pit already forming in your stomach knows the truth.

“Don’t, it’s not worth it,” he repeats louder with a strained voice as he turns away from you.

“Worth it? What do you mean?” You hear the crack in your own voice, the realization sinking in more forcefully.

“We’re good now. Why complicate it?” He’s looking in your direction but focusing on the floor, purposefully avoiding your face. He’s breathing more heavily but his words are calculated and controlled.

You are not as composed, the tears welling as you try to speak plainly. “Javi, I can’t pretend this is just friends for me anymore.”

“Why not?” 

That’s not the response you were expecting to get. Looking into his eyes you find distress. It’s not pity, it’s not annoyance, it’s not anger, it’s panic.  _ Why?  _

“It hurts too much to,” you answer honestly.

“This is just casual. No expectations. No ties.” He rises quickly to pace back and forth in the space past the coffee table.

“Javi I’m not trying to tie you down. I’m not proposing something grand. I feel for you as more than a friend. I…I want to know if you feel the same…I get the feeling you do,” you plead, trying to catch his eye while he paces. 

He freezes at your sentence and sees the tear trailing your cheek. Sucking in a deep breath, he closes his eyes and balls his fingers into fists, taking a moment before saying, “We can’t make it more. It's too risky.”

“I highly doubt it’ll mess up work that badly,” you scoff, averting your eyes to the ceiling.

“No that’s not…that’s not what I mean.” His jaw shifts before he starts pacing again, looking for the next excuse. His words are almost angry as he raises his voice, “But I fuck, you fuck remember? And I’m still fucking.” 

“Yeah I know you are. I tried to come see you Monday night,” you say, eerily calm. 

“Oh.” His shoulders slump like his body took a beating. 

“But that’s why I’m telling you now. I want more.” You emphasize the last sentence, saying it as clearly as possible.

“But you’re still fucking too right?” His voice is soft again, fearing the answer to his question.

“I haven’t slept with another person in a while. I haven’t wanted to,” you respond coolly. His face looks as if you’ve broken his heart. He staggers back to lean himself against the wall. 

You don’t understand any of this. You expected an ‘I love you too’ or a ‘no thanks’, not this tortured conversation. It’s so like him to make this more dramatic than it needs to be. Not giving up, you double down, “You can honestly stand there and tell me you don’t think this is more than friends?”

It feels like ages before he peels himself from the wall. He’s far away but you swear his eyes are glossy. His voice is hoarse when he starts to speak. “I’m sorry I let it get this far. I can’t help myself around you...We can’t be together like we want.”

“Like  _ we  _ want?” you repeat, your heart swelling.  _ He does want this.  _ His subconscious gave him away despite everything he’s said. Why is he fighting this so goddamn much? Why can’t this happen?

“I have to go,” he says quickly, heading towards the door in an attempt to end this conversation.

“Javier!” You practically scream his name, causing him to stop in his tracks. You stand when he turns to face you.

“We have to be just friends,” he insists. It sounds more like him begging for it to be true than a final statement.

“Why?” Your voice is curt. You’re done dancing around the bullshit. 

His Adam's apple quivers as his neck tenses. He is holding all of his emotion in, refusing to let it out. You can see the strain in his chest, in his fists. “This is just friends who fuck.” He turns away again to put his shoes on.

You take a moment to process everything before you respond with a cold voice. “Javi, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. At all.”

“What?” he asks, stopping mid-tie of his shoe.

“If you can tell me that this isn’t something more when your every action disputes it…I can’t do this. I won’t do this.”

“What…I…What are you saying?” He rises and takes a few steps closer to you, reaching out for your hand. He recoils when you take a step back, putting more distance between you.

“I can’t continue in this middle ground anymore. You have feelings for me Javi and for some goddamn reason you are choosing to deny them.” It’s taking all your strength to say this calmly. He’s breaking your heart and it’s not because he doesn’t care.

All he can muster out is your name. 

“Tell me I’m wrong Javier.” Your teary eyes stare into his, holding his gaze until he answers. 

You can see all the hurt, all the pain written on his face. He suddenly looks so much older than the man who was so happily watching a movie on your couch minutes earlier. You don’t understand why he’s fighting himself. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again, shaking his head slightly.

You inhale deeply, fighting off the tears for a little while longer. “Then you’re right. We are friends.  _ Just _ friends,” you say coldly. You refuse to look at him as you sit back down on the couch. You feel his eyes on you but you don’t turn your head, waiting for him to leave. He lingers for a minute more before getting the message, carefully closing the door on his way out.

When you hear his apartment door slam down the hall, you fall along the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry. This is worse than you imagined. You could accept that you were reading into things and he didn’t want anything, but this is worse. 

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, as your tear ducts dry up, nothing more to give. It’s all so frustrating with him. You had to fight just for him to admit he has feelings, and even then it was on accident! You were so stupid to have convinced yourself this would be easy.  _ Javier fucking Peña.  _ With a man who has such a dramatic professional life, you should have expected his personal one would match it.

Honestly you don’t know what to think, you’re having every emotion at the same time. You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate neither of you. You let yourself get caught up. You put yourself out there. And he rejected you, you have to accept it no matter if you think he’s lying. You have to stand by your word, no more sleeping with Javi, friends only. It’s the only way you’ll eventually be able to be around him again.

You take a hot shower to clear your thoughts and give your body a fresh start. You don’t need this. You don’t need to beg someone to be with you. If he won’t admit it, won’t put the effort in, then fuck him. You need someone who is offering it freely. Someone who is open with how they feel about you. Someone like… You quickly shut off the water and dry yourself, rushing to get dressed,

Even though it’s nearing 11pm you fumble through your purse for that scrap piece of paper and dial the number on it. You hope he’s still up or you might lose your nerve after you’ve slept. When the phone line picks up your heart skips a beat.

“Garza.” 

“Carlos, hey.”

“Rojita...you're calling...” he jumbles in a slight panic. “How are you tonight?” he adds, trying to regain his cool.

“I’m good, Carlos. I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Mostly,” you taunt.

“Mostly? Oh no, what did I do?” he answers, genuinely concerned. 

“I think I’ll tell you Friday night if you’re still free,” you say smoothly.

You swear you can hear him smile through the phone. “I would cancel my whole calendar for a date with you.” 

“Señor Garza, that's not very professional to say,” you tease, despite your heart turning to mush at his words.

He plays along. “You are right, Señora. Please allow me to make it up to you Friday night. 8pm? The lovely bar in my hotel still serves those drinks you need to try.”

“Ok, Carlos. I’ll allow it,” you answer, your giggle causing him to laugh too.

“I am really glad you called,” he says sincerely.

“Me too.” A sense of calm waves over you when you end the call. It was so effortless. He was so charming, so complimentary. 

But even after all that, you fall asleep wondering if this date will seal your fate with Javi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it might not just be a storm...it might be hurricane season.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date with Carlos Garza

After a rough Thursday that you spent moping, it’s Friday morning and you’ve got a new attitude. Giving your face a few playful slaps, you flash a smile on before leaving your car, determined to have a good day. Your eyes widen when you see the almost obnoxious bouquet of flowers on Nicole’s desk. “Wow! Nicole, how lucky! What’s the occasion?” you ask.

“Oh these aren’t for me,” she says with a smirk. “Read the card.”

“Who’s sending Noonan flowers?” you ask before you pick up the tiny white note resting on top of some petals. You feel the heat flow through you as you read, ‘Until tonight ~ Garza’.  _ Oh. _

“Finally going on a date with him, huh?” Nicole asks when she notices your soft smile. 

“What do you mean  _ finally _ ?” you respond, shaking yourself out of your daze.

She looks at you condescendingly, as if to say  _ bitch, really?  _ “I’ve sent back plenty of presents you’ve gotten from different officials, but never one of his.”

Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment. She’s totally right. You told yourself he was being professional this whole time, but really you made that concession to yourself because you wanted to allow yourself to like him without it causing problems. And part of you was probably keeping that border up when you thought things were moving forward with Javi. “Wow, you’re right. I guess I never realized how obvious it was.”

“You can’t really see it clearly when you’re already in it, can you?” she says plainly, focusing on the files strewn across her desk.

“No, I guess not,” you concede. In looking at the flowers, you realize how big of a distraction they’ll be for you today. “Do you mind keeping these on your desk? They’re…rather large.”

She perks up, face full of joy. “Of course not! As long as I can pretend they’re for me.” She’s joking but you know she’s serious. You’re not entirely oblivious and have heard the tiny comments she makes when something comes for you. You make a mental note to have some flowers sent to her anonymously. Everyone deserves to feel special.

“Knock yourself out.” You laugh and enter your office to force yourself to start working. It’s going to be hard to focus with the smell of the roses wafting into the room so you close the door, sealing off the outside distractions. It works for a few hours and you make your way through your to-do list.

That is, until Williams forgets to close the door all the way when he comes back from lunch. You hear a giggle through the rustle of the office.  _ Nicole.  _ Those flowers must have won her some extra attention. When her flirtatious laughter gets louder though, you start to get annoyed. Whoever is entertaining Nicole is certainly putting in a lot of effort. 

You hear Noonan call your name when she pops her head out of her office, asking you to join her. Grabbing a pad of paper and a pen off your desk, you quickly comply and rush out your chair. 

Your stomach drops when you see a male figure with too-tight dark jeans hurrying down the hallway away from where you stand. One glance at Nicole lets you know that she’s watching him too, allowing you to fill in the missing pieces.  _ He wastes no time. _ You take a second to collect yourself before joining Noonan. You’re not letting feelings ruin your work.

The rest of the day flies by and before you know it you’re loading the giant bouquet into your car. The fresh, light scent of flowers coat the interior on your drive home, filling you with soft, peaceful thoughts. Inspired by the gift, you decide you want to feel as beautiful as the flowers smell. You’re typically a pants girl, even when dolling up, but tonight feels different and you wear one of the few dresses you own, the ones that wait in the back of your closet, rarely worn.

The one you choose is, on its own, nothing spectacular, just a simple little black dress. But when you put it on, it seems like it's tailor-made. Hugging your every curve, showing off the perfect amount of skin, you wonder why you don’t wear it everyday. Finishing the outfit off with precise makeup and some jewelry, you barely recognize yourself. The woman you see in the mirror is confident, glamorous, and  _ sexy.  _

It’s not that you don’t find yourself as any of these things, it’s that tonight your look feels like armor hiding your hurt. This date is so soon after the blowup with Javi that your heart hasn’t had time to recover. He’s continuing through his motions, flirting with Nicole among other things you don’t want to think about, but your routine has stopped, your world coming to a halt at his rejection.

But tonight is about you and Garza, a man who has been nothing but sweet to you. There was a time when a night with him would have been your only thought. You don’t deserve his affection, not when you’re choosing to go on a date with him while thinking about another all day. Not when you’re constantly comparing him to another. Not when you only accepted once you found out another wouldn’t have you. He deserves to be someone’s first choice. 

You have to slap yourself to get your mind out the negative spiral despite it all being true. You like Garza, you always have, and he likes you. He’s leaving tomorrow for who knows how long, maybe forever. You have to stop feeling guilty and enjoy the night. 

You never realized how many emotions there are until this week forced you to feel every single one of them.

In the cab over to the bar, you’re starting to get nervous. You’ve never actually been with Garza outside of a professional context, (besides lunches, but those were still during the working day) and you wonder whether whatever flirtation that exists between the two of you will carry over outside the office.  _ God, when will you get your confidence back? _ Worrying over every little detail is driving you insane.

The hotel is definitely among the fancier ones in town and you expected no less. Its lavish décor surely puts your simple outfit to shame, you feel out of place. While your job requires you to plan and attend galas along with other fancy events, in your free time you prefer a more casual atmosphere. 

Upon finding the bar, your eyes scan the room until they land on a figure quickly approaching you. Garza always dresses nice but  _ damn _ he looks good out of the confines of the workplace. The jacket of his tan suit is open, showing off the fitted white dress shirt underneath with the top button undone. It’s also the first time you’ve seen him forego a tie. And you’re not sure if you miss it. The elated look on his face eases your nerves. Even if you feel out of place among the decadence, being with Garza makes you only care about his opinion.

“I hadn’t thought it possible for you to be more radiant than you already are, but it seems I was very wrong,” he says, taking your hand to plant a kiss to it. He gestures over to a booth in the corner. “Shall we?”

You wrap your arm around his and allow him to guide you, drinking in the rich smell of cologne that wafts off him. Sitting across from each other with the black table separating you, you’re able to really look him over. “You’re looking very handsome Carlos,” you say, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Ah this?” he asks, tugging at his suit collar. “I knew I had to dress my best to be seen with you. It’s cheesy but charming nonetheless coming from him.

He calls the waiter over and orders two of those drinks he’s been talking up. As expected they are fantastic, the burning warmth from the liquor adding a new dimension to the heat of your body. 

You chat calmly over a few rounds, the conversation never faltering. You’re still a little uncomfortable though. Sitting in a booth near the corner is nice, but the bar is too quiet for your liking and you feel that every time you laugh too loudly the other patrons judge you. 

“Hey…I’m having a really good time with you but…” you say sheepishly when there’s a lull in the conversation.

“But this bar is too stuffy,” he finishes your sentence. He chuckles at the bewilderment on your face. “I’ve seen you looking around a little nervously. We don’t have to stay, rojita. What’s on your mind?” He grabs your hand that’s resting on the table to prove his sincerity.

You knew he bought the alebrije because it reminded him of you but that’s twice now that he’s called you by its nickname. Your heart turns to mush thinking how it might also be his personal pet name for you.  _ Rojita _ , because your soul burns red. 

You think of an idea that might add some life to the night. “Do you play pool?” 

His smile is answer enough. Soon the check is paid, a taxi is wrangled, and you’re on your way to a dive you frequent, knowing there will be plenty of tables to choose from.

It’s way louder in the pool hall with all the groups of people chattering around and you feel more comfortable that no one is paying attention to your date among the noise. Grabbing a table, you set up the balls in the triangle. You offer to let him break but he insists you do, and you realize why later. He is terrible at the game, almost laughably so. He’s a good sport about it but mainly he can’t keep a good grip on the cue, which doesn’t exactly thrill you when you think about his finger strength. He was definitely faking excitement when you proposed coming here.

After two games of obliterating him, you give up the effort to grab two seats at the bar. He’s been nothing but complimentary with his words all night but sitting this close to you makes his hands find their confidence, taking a chance to touch you. He rests a hand on your knee, slowly moving to your upper thigh while you talk about the differences in Colombian, Mexican and American beers.

Laughing at a particularly good joke he makes, you tangle your fingers in his hand that rests against the bar ledge. It’s a simple gesture but his hand on your thigh tightens around your skin, almost kneading it. His eyes find yours after they slowly drink in your body. “You are very beautiful.”

Your breath hitches and suddenly he’s standing before you, between your thighs, one hand still gripping, the other caressing your chin.  _ Fuck.  _ This is the first time Garza has been so forward with you and he’s suave as hell.

He searches your face for hesitation but he’s met with your smile when you rest your hand on his waist, nodding your approval. Leaning down, he moves his hand to cup your cheek before embracing you with a soft kiss. He keeps it sweet and slow, not wanting to rush through as it’s been a long road to get here.  __

Someone bumps into the back of him, causing him to jolt forward and bump his teeth against yours. “Ah, I am so sorry rojita. Are you alright?”

You chuckle and rub your lip, realizing the date has far progressed the need to stay at the bar. “Do you want to see my apartment?”

His eyes light up but his words are cautious, “Are you sure?” You bite your lip and nod your head, taking him by the hand to lead him outside. 

He doesn’t try to kiss you again on the ride home, preferring you lay your back against him while his fingers play with your arm. You shouldn’t be surprised at how tender he is with you, but you wonder how to make him realize that you’re not as delicate as he thinks.

Entering your building, a surprising amount of sass comes out of Garza, “This is what the American government pays for, huh?” 

You bust out laughing, more so at the fact he made a dig at all than the dig itself, stopping in your tracks to recover. The man has never said a negative word around you before. You’ve been very happy with your apartment, even if there may be some problem with the thinness of the walls. “Oh this doesn’t cut it for Señor I-have-my-own-suite?”

“Please do not think I am judging where you live. I simply think someone as essential as you should also have their own suite like I do.” 

_ Well, fuck _ . He turned that around into a compliment very quickly.

You open your door and enter but he freezes in the doorway, shifting his weight between his feet. “Is something wrong?” you ask, turning around when he doesn’t follow you.

“While you have been nothing but perfect…I get the feeling a part of you is elsewhere. I would hate to push you into something you don’t want,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets.

You’re genuinely shocked. While sure you were on edge in the first bar, and your thoughts may have drifted while playing pool, and your eyes lingered on a door in the hallway as you passed it, you’ve been having a wonderful time and enjoyed the way he kissed you. You feel bad that you gave him any reason to think you weren’t into him. He’s handsome and kind and patient and loving, why wouldn’t you? There’s no logical reason why you shouldn’t. 

“Carlos, I don’t know why you think I don’t want this, I do. I’m not as fragile as you think,” you say, reaching out to grip his collar. He smiles and tilts his head down to kiss your hand, still not stepping forward. “Come in already!” Rolling your eyes, you pull him by his shoulder through the threshold and he kicks the door closed behind him.

Once inside, he finally takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons his wrists, instantly reminding you of how attracted to him you are. You undo two buttons on his shirt and ruffle his hair to shag it up. Smiling, he takes your hand from his hair and kisses your palm before tangling his fingers with yours. “So what’s this?” he asks, gesturing to some art on your wall.

Garza is heavily intrigued by what you have in your apartment and he’s more than happy to let you ramble when there’s a story that pairs with it. You must have calmed his nerves for good because his hands roam your body aimlessly while he listens, asking follow-up questions to prove he’s still paying attention. Of course Garza can still manage to be a gentleman while squeezing your ass in a conversation about your record collection. 

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask him in the kitchen, reaching up to grab two glasses. He presses himself to your back, nudging your head to the side to kiss your neck before wrapping his arms around your stomach. Your arms drape over his as you fall back into him, feeling his straining cock against your ass.  _ Fuck.  _ He might know exactly what he’s doing.

He releases his hold on you to spin you around by the waist to face him. You run a hand through your hair, recovering from his sudden advance while he watches you, waiting for a reaction. Stepping toward him, you tug on his collar firmly to bring his lips to yours, kissing him like you’re making up for lost time.

You lead him to your bedroom and shut the door behind you, keeping thoughts of only he and you within the walls. Your previous worry about the dexterity level of his fingers is quickly quelled once you’re undressed. His tongue that usually relays sweet words to you is used for another purpose tonight, one that is just as satisfying. He is sensitive to your needs and takes his time riling you to the edge. And you’re more than happy to return the favor. 

He has you begging for him by the time he gifts you with his cock. His tenderness is replaced by rough grabs and thrusts as he chases his high, searing his dark eyes into yours. Once he’s made you cum again, he flips you over and pounds into you before spilling out on your ass with a moan of your name. 

He takes care of your every need once he recovers, even grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen for you to share. There’s no discussion of whether or not he’s spending the night, he slips under the covers and pulls you to him. He’s perfectly happy to have you fall asleep in his arms, but once he’s out cold you wiggle from his grasp to roll on your side away from him. There’s something about staying wrapped up in him all night that sits wrong with you and you try to figure out why as you drift off. 

When you finally wake up it’s late morning, the sun filling your room with light. Rolling over you find Garza lying on his back. He looks peaceful, breathing easily with his eyes closed. Thinking he must still be asleep, you sit up to get out of the bed, but you’re thwarted as his hands reach out to pull your back down to his chest, keeping his arms wrapped around you. “Morning,” he mutters out.

“So you’re awake, huh?” you ask with a chuckle, adjusting your body to lean into him.

“Yeah, I can’t let you get away just yet,” he says, giving you a tight squeeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, closing your eyes again to enjoy his embrace.

You break first. “I’m so hungry but I don’t want to move.”

“If we had gone to mine we could be ordering room service right now,” he teases.

“Would you have rather gone to your hotel than here?” you ask a little defensively.

“No nothing like that. I would not want to change anything about last night. I only wish I could give you pancakes.” He sits up, bringing you with him, and plants a kiss on your shoulder.

“Well unfortunately that is out of the question. I’m not even sure what I have in my fridge. Shall we go look?” You glance over your shoulder to see him nod in agreement. 

Looking into the fridge you realize what a lack of options you have. You had completely neglected food shopping given the week you’d had. “Would you like eggs or a sandwich? I’d have to go shopping for anything else.”

“You want a sandwich for breakfast?” he asks, slightly judging you.

“It’s nearing lunchtime anyway so I don’t mind,” you say, gesturing to the clock on the wall.

“Is it really?” he asks before checking the time for himself. “Oh wow, my flight is in 6 hours.”

“Wow, that’s soon,” you say as the reality of the situation sinks in. “We really waited until the last minute, didn't we.”

“Right under the wire,” he says before giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Do you regret it?” he adds nervously.

“No, Carlos. How could I when you’re so lovely to me?” you answer sincerely.

“I do not want you thinking this only happened because I am leaving…it just made me realize I had to try. I think it is better to try and know than always wonder what if.” Holding his eye contact you can tell that he means every word. There’s truth to it too, you would have looked back and always wondered if you never called him.

“I would have been wondering too. You’re far braver than I am, I never said anything,” you admit, hanging your head.

“Ah rojita, you are braver than you give yourself credit for.” He raises your chin with his hand to kiss you again. He studies your face for a few moments before adding, “As painful as it is, I think I should go.”

“Without breakfast? My room service isn’t enough for you?” you joke to mask the hurt, not wanting to accept that when he leaves it’ll be for good.

“No, no, it is not that,” he says, laughing. “I think if I stay for much longer I will not leave.” There’s a sadness in him even though he’s smiling, pulling you into a hug. “And that will just cause more problems.”

“You’re probably right,” you concede, breaking away from his hold. “Better end now before I beat you at pool again.”

“You are trouble,” he teases after letting out a huge laugh. 

While he collects his things from around the apartment you wait by the door, lost in thought. You smooth over some wrinkles on his suit jacket and fix his hair when he joins you in the entryway. Catching his eye, you find the saddest soft smile on his face, breaking both your hearts.

“I am really glad we did this,” you say before opening the door for him.

“Me too, hermosa,” he says, taking your face in his hands to give you one last deep kiss. “Until we meet again.”

“Goodbye Carlos.” 

“Goodbye rojita.” 

He walks backwards down the hallway until he’s at the exit. You watch him until the building door closes and he’s out of your sight completely. A bittersweet calm waves over you, but it is quickly ruined by your stomach curling when your eyes land on a door in the hallway, your bliss ending right there.

You’re thankful Garza is leaving because even though you were able to forget for a few hours, you wouldn’t be able to offer him any more than you’ve already given. He did nothing wrong and you don’t regret a thing, but he’s not the one you wanted to wake up next to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a fool. Javi is a fool.  
> Carlos Garza is the sweetest man alive.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javi's POV.
> 
> On the day of Reader's date with Garza, Javi is blasted in his apartment going over everything about he and reader's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically Javi's drunk stream of consciousness. While yes, Javi has a big tolerance for alcohol, he is particularly inebriated and it makes his thoughts even more dramatic.

Javi knows he fucked up, badly. Your teary eyes stain his vision while he slumps against his couch, smoking a cigarette that he doesn’t deserve. You don’t deserve any of what he’s put you through. He’s so goddamn selfish. He’s been battling with himself for almost two years now over you and he’s finally done it. He’s finally fucked up, pushed you away for good.

He already knew you, of course, before you officially met. It was hard not to run into you with the way you rushed around the embassy. You paid him no mind but he had noticed you, how could he not. You’re a force to be reckoned with, you hit the ground running when you landed in Colombia.

He heard stories from guys talking around about “the new bitch” at the Ambassador’s office. They made it sound like you had three heads and a dagger, ready to strike at any moment. But he never got that vibe from you, just a confident woman who won’t be taking any crap unless it’s from a superior. That’s something he can respect. It didn’t help that he found you absolutely stunning as well.

You never spoke with him for that first year you were here, preferring to go to his boss for whatever you needed. He knew that wasn’t your play for every department, you used one of the low ranking ass-kissers in the CIA because he gave up information thinking it would score him bonus points with the ambassador. He wondered why you wouldn’t come bother him about DEA business. He would have really enjoyed a close conversation with you, find out what made you tick. 

You weren’t interested though. He caught your eye once and ruined his chance by greedily drinking in your body, dragging his gaze all along you. You had noticed him checking out someone else a moment before and were not pleased that you were his next target. Your reaction made him realize you weren’t playing his game.

So he didn’t bother, going for the easy play instead.  _ What would have happened if he wasn’t so goddamn stupid? _ Nicole, the secretary, she fawned over him, she still does. He found no reason to look into your office past Nicole’s desk while waiting for Noonan. Not until he properly met you.

He’ll admit it. He was an ass that night at Steve’s when you all shared drinks. He wasn’t expecting anything more than a nightcap when he followed Steve up to his apartment and he couldn’t bring himself out of his funk when they found you and Connie enjoying yourselves. Yet even though he mostly ignored you, you ran that pretty mouth and flirted with him in the hallway.

God, do you know how to run your mouth. Every dinner you shared with the Murphys had him on edge. You cut him down to size when he said something out of line. You made it your mission to get him to laugh even if he didn’t want to. And that smile. Oh that smile haunts him, lurking into his thoughts at odd hours. 

But given your previous reaction to him hitting on you, he made no effort to try again. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

That is, until he drove you home from the bar that night. That whole night is forever etched into his brain, the way you looked, the way you danced, the look on your face after he pushed that pendejo away from you. If that guy wasn’t CIA, he would have pummeled him into the ground.

And then you got in his car and had his cock straining in his jeans as you described the ways you wanted to be touched. He remembers every word. And then you let it slip that you found him attractive, while teasing him no less. And then you made him dance with you, twirling that figure around until he couldn’t hold out any longer, pulling you to him to fill in the gap. 

But right before he dared kiss you, you pulled back, apologizing for bothering him. You had nothing to apologize for of course, he was mesmerized by you. But, he’s grateful you stopped things, you were too drunk and he didn’t want to take advantage. If this was going to happen he was going to do it right. You deserved to be fucked right.

Once he realized you were into him, the signs became painfully obvious. He noticed how your eyes lingered on his and he caught you staring at him out of the corner of his eye multiple times. He noticed the extra looks he got when he wore the button-ups that you had mentioned and would change into one before dinner sometimes. He also noticed how you slowly would sit closer and closer to him throughout an evening and he wasn’t complaining.

He struggled over whether or not to act on his desire. He knew you were both interested but it’s always messy when he involves himself with someone. He usually finds company in women who he pays or are not long for Bogotá. He finds it easier to pour himself into something frivolous rather than risk hurting someone who stays around to see he wasn’t worth it. He also can’t stand the thought of someone he’s involved with being targeted, especially after Helena. He wouldn’t put it past Escobar to order something be done and he’d seen enough of how his informants were treated to know the danger of it.

There were so many reasons _not_ to act on it. He wouldn’t be able to get away from you, you’re too ingrained in his routine now. It would be risky to try something casual with someone so close to his work, his friends, and his home. But then Connie had that damn holiday party and you were so beautiful and charming, talking to everyone there like you were old friends. You were happy, he was happy, and then you had to go and mutter too loudly so that he could hear you say you wanted him. And then you went and fucking disappeared! 

You’re so goddamn frustrating. Your mouth was so bold but you never followed through, always believing he wasn’t interested. He doesn’t understand how you didn’t pick up on how he badly wanted you too. He had purposefully tried to be more invested at dinner, trapping you into conversation. Though he’s a man of few words, he made an effort to give you verbal compliments because you apparently are oblivious to all the unsaid ones his eyes had given you.

When he saw your jacket still on the pile at the Murphys’, he knew it was his shot. You looked so cute, frazzled in your doorway. He knew he had the upper-hand and as payback for all the times you riled him up, he teased you until he confessed. But watching you squirm was nothing compared to the moment you realized he wanted you too, the change in your voice alone made him hard. And the first taste of your lips was as sweet as he imagined.

_ Fuck. _ After that first fuck he knew you were dangerous. He already needed more but was afraid of the consequences. He was unnecessarily cold to you when you suggested that you make it a repeat thing. Looking back on it now, he didn’t need to be so harsh but it was important to him at the time that you expect nothing from him. You agreed, almost too quickly, and that was the real beginning of this mess.

He continued life as usual, fucking whoever grabbed his eye and having small affairs here and there. But when he was alone his mind travelled back to the same person. You were like heroin to him, the one thing he craved the most but could easily be his downfall. He was careful not to indulge too much. So he would come to you sparingly, in the middle of the night, when his desire couldn’t be ignored. Sure he’s had plenty of casual friends in rotation over the years but none kept him coming back for more quite as much as you did. 

And then you went and made it even more interesting. Coaxing him into that records room, kissing him at work, leaving him fucking hanging. Babe, you had him begging for you. He let himself seek you out more often after that, looking for excuses to see you for just a moment, just for a squeeze of your ass. He tortured himself all day with the thought of what he would do to you at night. He was having so much fun he almost forgot you weren’t his when that doctor flirted with you in front of him. You set him straight when he got jealous and it led to him seriously consider the effect you have on him. 

When he overheard your plans to go out to a bar with Williams and his friends, he suddenly grew very possessive. He especially didn’t like when Connie encouraged you to get laid and it made his blood boil when you agreed with her. You were getting laid…by him.

He realizes now that he was out of line insanely jealous and that he wasn’t around nearly enough to warrant the jealousy, but at the time he just wanted you to wonder why you’d bother sleeping with someone else when he could fuck you better. He’d never really been jealous before, most of his relationships were no strings attached and he had no problems with any of them sleeping around, never giving it a second thought. But with you, it was different.

He’d seen you flirting with others plenty of times but there was something about you that night that had him especially on edge. Maybe it was that green shirt, maybe it was the way you flipped your hair, maybe it was when that guy got his lips on yours, he couldn’t pinpoint it the exact reason why but he needed to have you. When he saw you scurry away to the bathroom after that pendejo left you at the table, he rushed after you, realizing his window to convince you was open. 

You’re so hot when you’re flustered. Thinking about fucking you with his fingers in that bathroom still helps him get through rough nights. His confidence went through the roof when you left the guy you’d been flirting with to go fuck him. And fuck you he did. Goddamn he could die in that pussy. It took a great amount of restraint to not stay that night. He wanted to keep you in his arms, in his possession. 

But once again, the minute you left his sight the thoughts of what could happen if he made this more than casual plagued him. The fallout of a breakup, the sneers from Steve, your lifeless body bloodied by a sicario, he wouldn’t let it happen. So he left without a word, leaving you no doubt confused. 

What he didn’t realize was that night would change your relationship permanently. He knew he wasn’t getting away with it anymore. When you asked him a few days later if he would start spending the night, he knew that was your way of asking for more. He almost cracked, the admission of his feelings dancing on his tongue. But he swallowed them like a coward and has lived to regret it, making the same mistake every time since. 

Instead, you officially became friends and that allowed him to rationalize spending even more time with you. He’s just bringing you dinner “as a friend.” He’s just leaving you surprise coffees on your desk “as a friend.” He’s just devouring your pussy until you agree to call him by his first name “as a friend.”

You used to only address him by his last name and he hated the formality of it. Now you say Javi all the time, too much in fact. You practically say it every other sentence; it clouds his thoughts. He can’t think straight when it comes out of your sweet mouth, fooling him into thinking it’s a good idea to hang around more often.

Like clockwork though, he would ruin his evenings with you with thoughts of what could come if this was a real relationship. He wasn’t going to ruin you like he did Lorraine. He wasn’t going to let you become a target for Escobar like Helena or Elisa or all the others. He purposely stayed away from you for extra days after he came back from a trip. Every dead body he saw reminded him of what could come of getting close to him. He even would force himself to stay away for a while after a particularly intimate night with you, fearing that returning too soon would ruin everything. What a fool he was.

He knew it already but it didn’t explicitly hit him that he loved you until he was at your door bloody and beaten. He could have gone anywhere but he went to you. God, the worry on your face put a pit in his stomach. He almost hated himself for putting the burden on you. 

But you didn’t take his crap, tending to his wounds immediately and quickly chastising him for being a bastard. And of course because you’re you, you thoroughly surprised him when your idea of punishment was blowing him in your bathroom. He fucking loves you.

As stubborn as you say he is, you’re equally the same. He knew you were never going to let him leave that night without taking your spare key. He kept it but vowed never to keep it on his person, lest it fall into the wrong hands and you become vulnerable.

It really took all of him to leave you every time after that night. No matter how much he resists, you see through his bullshit and force him to do the right thing. He fucking loves you. He wanted to hold on to you for as long as he could, until it hurt too much to continue. 

And then perfect fucking Sunday happened. You looked so beautiful when you opened the door, hair disheveled, book in hand, completely relaxed albeit slightly annoyed. He jumped at the chance to hang around that side of you, rushing home to grab a book of his own to have an excuse to be near you. You looked so radiant reading in that chair with the sun shining on your skin and a slight breeze from the open windows running through your hair. Had he ever seen anything so perfect?

Of course you had to make it even better when you started cooking, and then dancing, and then came out of left-field with that strip checkers idea. He was confident at first but you definitely handed him his ass. You’re so frustrating, you know how to get under his skin so easily. And you kept goddamn winning! Even after he started to tease, you bested him with better banter. 

But he wasn’t going to let you be in control that whole night. After spending almost the whole day with you, he just wanted to consume you. He was riled up from the moment he saw you and at the end of the night he still didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay wrapped in your body.

You were already waiting for him by the door, used to him leaving by now, and yet he couldn’t bear to leave this time. He wasn’t ready to go, he didn’t have the strength, the draw of your kiss too powerful to resist. He felt greedy claiming your lips for his own, not letting you have any air that he didn’t give to you.

He couldn’t stop himself when you tore your mouth away desperate to breathe, he continued to worship your neck and could have done so much more. But you stopped him and when he looked up, he realized how tired you were. He let you lay him down on the bed and crawl into him. And it felt perfect.

That was all he wanted. He wanted to freeze that moment in time. He dragged his fingers through your hair as you slept, feeling your chest rhythmically rise and fall against him. He would have done anything to keep that forever. Which is why he needed to leave. He can’t keep you safe, just being with him makes your life more dangerous than it would without him. 

You rolled over on your side once you were deeper in sleep, giving him the opportunity to go home. He laid there a few extra minutes, debating whether or not to just stay and make this thing official. His fears convinced him it was better to leave than break his habit. Everything would have been different if he had just stayed that night.

He really did have his head up his own ass thinking it could continue in the same way after Sunday. He tried to fuck someone the next day, returning to his old habit of burying his emotions, but she left after he couldn’t hold an erection. Touch wasn’t enough anymore, he just wanted you and your smart mouth. He stayed away a couple days to let it die down, hoping you weren’t as deep in feelings as he was. Hoping in vain that you could stay in the happy medium.

He couldn’t stand it any longer by Wednesday, he needed to be back with you. Seeing that a movie from his childhood was playing later in the day gave him the perfect excuse to bring you dinner and spend the evening. He felt so comfortable, telling you things he hadn’t admitted to anyone in years, letting you rest your weight on him. But he got too comfortable, he slipped up, the pet name fell out of his lips on accident. And that was it.

You told him everything he wanted to hear and it terrified him. You love him. How terrible. Like he’d ever be worthy of your love. Like he’d ever be able to give you a good life, especially with the constant threat of Escobar hanging above him. He’d rather you be safe and alive than fearing for your life with him. You’d be safer with him watching from a distance. He’s so fucking selfish for letting this escalate to here.

When it comes down to fear, his training kicks in and he blocks out the emotions, forcing them down as deep as they’ll go. It's reactionary, he’s seen so many terrible things that it’s all he can do to cope. He tells himself he lied to protect you, but he knows it’s because he’s scared. He’s scared to have something he can’t leave and he’s lying to himself when he denies that he hasn’t been able to leave you for some time now. 

And you finally couldn’t take his bullshit anymore. He can’t blame you for breaking. But when you said you couldn’t do this anymore  _ at all, _ it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. Part of him hoped you’d go back on your words and welcome him back into your arms, but if you did you wouldn’t be the frustrating woman he loves. He left you as you held back your tears, the tears he couldn’t get out of his head, and he let his fear defeat him.

The next day was torture. He threw himself into field work, not wanting to chance seeing you. He was on edge all day, snapping at Steve so much that his partner didn’t join him on a stakeout, leaving him in a car alone with his thoughts. The night was worse though, knowing how close you were and how he could absolutely not go near you. You had said you were still friends with him but he knew he needed to stay away for a while. 

Dying to be near you in some way, he went by your office earlier this morning with the intention of stealing a look at you without bringing attention to himself. When he got there however, he was immediately distracted by the large display of flowers on Nicole’s desk. He should have never asked about them because he wasn’t prepared for her words. Despite initially claiming them as her own, she admitted that they were in fact yours from Carlos fucking Garza and that he was taking you out tonight. 

Fucking Garza. How could he blame you though? While he’s gone and put you through the ringer, the man has been consistently good to you. He’s overheard all the times you’ve gushed about Garza to Connie and though you don’t know about it, he’s watched from the safety of his smoke break spot while Garza helped you into his car to take you out to lunch a few times. He knows that a man willing to open the car door for you is worth your time. Unlike him, who fucking bails when asked to admit his feelings. 

But when the ambassador beckoned you into her office, he panicked. He suddenly couldn’t bear the sight of you, turning on his heels and walking as fast as was appropriate down the hall. He knew you would be moving on but he hadn’t realized it would have been so soon and with someone who would mean anything. Garza might ruin any chance he’d have to get you back. Not that he ever truly allowed you to be his in the first place.

So now here he is, on his couch, alone in his apartment, going over every fucking thing he’s ever done with you, drowning himself in whiskey and memories. It’s all his fault, he knows it is. Why couldn’t he just fucking admit it? Would trying for something real really have been as disastrous as this? You have been nothing but perfect. You’re the brave one. You put up with him for way too long. You are so…

He thinks he’s drank too much when he hears your laughter in the hall. He eyes the whiskey bottle on the table trying to gauge how much he’s consumed because he definitely wasn’t keeping track. He scrambles to his feet when he hears it again followed by the low rumble of another voice. His mind is telling him to leave it alone, don’t look in the hallway, but his hands are already turning the handle before the common sense sinks in. 

He opens the door slightly just in time to see your hand pull the shoulder of the suited man into your apartment, the door shutting behind him. His heart sinks into his ass as he stares at your closed door, frozen in place. Knowing about the date in theory was one thing. Actually seeing how well it’s going however, has broken him.

His first instinct is to throw on his jacket and walk down to the closest brothel to bury his hurt in someone’s pussy. But he doesn’t deserve that release. He deserves to feel every drop of pain inside. He slumps back down on the couch pouring another drink, hoping to drown out what he just saw so he can fall asleep. This all could have been avoided if he just would have been honest, but it’s too late now. God help him if he hears anything later, he won’t be able to take it.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of sleeping with Garza forces the reader and Javi to examine their relationship, with bumps and major denial guiding the way of course.

It’s been over a week since your blow up with Javi and the high from your night with Garza has worn off leaving you in a state of sadness. You had practically centered your whole home life around Javi ever since Connie adopted Olivia and now you don’t know what to do with your time. You miss him terribly and hate that he’s physically so close but emotionally so far. You find yourself knocking on his door one night on the off chance he’ll answer. You have no plan of what to say if he opens the door. But he doesn’t, so you’ll never know what you would have said. 

While you haven’t exactly changed your schedule since last week, you definitely find yourself turning down tasks that will bring you anywhere near the DEA section of the embassy. You’re fighting yourself on whether or not you actually want to see him, causing you to avoid him all day but still end up at his front door before bed. 

Showing up for dinner at Connie’s, you’re upset to find it’s just you and her, subconsciously hoping he’d be there. But your disappointment immediately shifts to concern when you look at her face and realize she had been recently crying. “Connie, oh my god what happened?” you ask as you shift past her into the apartment.

“Steve was kidnapped earlier this week,” she blurts out, unable to stop a fresh batch of tears from falling.

“ _What!_ " You wrap her in your arms, probably hurting her with how tightly you hold her. Immediately panicking, your mind runs through everything that could have possibly happened and how Connie has been suffering through this alone and- 

“He’s ok,” she says into your shoulder, tears wetting your shirt. You pull back and brace her arms with your hands, searching her eyes. She sniffles and elaborates, “They took him from right outside the apartment. Then threw him back hours later.”

“Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, too stunned to do anything but hold her.

“They returned him but, what if they hadn’t.” She shrugs off your hands and heads to the living room where Olivia is playing on the floor. Scooping up her daughter, she sits down in the armchair, sighing as she brings the girl to her chest, trying to calm herself down.

“Connie, where is he?” you ask, acutely aware of the lack of Steve in the apartment.

“He’s out with Javier. Back on another stakeout, I wouldn’t let him out of my sight for the first 24 hours after he got home. But he has to keep working,” she says, staring out the window. 

You’ve seen Connie upset before, enraged even, but this, this is the most scared you’ve ever been for her. Her words seem eerily hollow and there’s no inflection in her voice, not a joyful tilt, not a sad warble, nothing. 

“Javi will watch him for you,” you say, trying to give her some peace.

“I called Javi right away. He immediately did everything he could think of. But I just had to wait here for hours, no news, no updates, wondering if I still had a living, breathing husband.”

“That’s terrible.” Rushing over to her, you lay your hand on hers, kneeling before the chair where she sits cradling her daughter. As her face turns from the window to look at you, you find her eyes tired with worry. “But he came home Connie. It’s ok. You have your husband and your daughter.” You rub Olivia’s back lightly, causing the girl to curl her body into her mother’s. Connie takes a deep breath and kisses Olivia’s forehead, holding her just a little tighter.

“I’m so scared.” Connie starts to cry as she speaks. “The cartels know everything. They were right here, right outside my home.”

“He’s safe now Connie. You’re safe now. They won’t kill a DEA agent,” you assure her, wiping a tear off her cheek.

“They’ve broken in before too. They killed my cat when we first got here,” she says blankly, too devoid of feeling for your liking.

“How did they even manage that?” you ask, genuinely shocked. 

“Customs guy stole Steve’s passport information, sent it to Escobar’s intel. One day I came home to my cat strung up, dead.” 

“That must have been terrifying,” you say, even though Connie isn’t really listening to you anymore, too in her own head.

“But now I have Olivia to worry about, I will not put her in danger because of his fucking job.” 

After dinner, the two of you allow yourself to indulge in your vices. Standing with cigarettes in hand, you both smoke near the open window. Connie even accepting the cig proves to you how out of it she is. You watch her cautiously before she breaks the silence. “I’ll be honest with you honey, I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to hide the shock in your voice. 

“We’ve already been down here too many years. And I know Steve is getting closer to nailing him but, I’ve seen what the cartels do when put under pressure. It’s deadly. I won’t have Olivia put in danger,” she rambles while watching the street. 

“It’s going to be ok, Connie.” You place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not fucking putting my daughter in danger,” she spits out. You quickly pull your hand away following her rise to anger. It's so hard to figure out what she needs right now.

“What are you thinking about doing?” you ask, speaking as calmly as you can.

“I don’t know, but I can’t do nothing anymore,” she answers, forcibly pressing the butt into the ashtray.

**~~**

An aggressive two knocks at the door snaps you out of your trance. Crossing the room you fling open your door to find him standing there in his worn out leather jacket. _Javier_ . Keys in hand, the smell of cigarette smoke hits you as he grumbles, “Go for a drive with me?” Your initial annoyance subsides when you really look at him. The bags under his eyes have bags. He must have been through hell. You’ve been begging Javi to open up to you, even if you’ll always be _just a friend_. Quickly slipping on a jacket and shoes, you follow him out to his car.

A thick tension fills the air as he drives in silence. Each time you glance over to him, he turns his head to avoid your eye contact. Giving up, you turn to the window and watch the Colombian streets fly by, waiting for him to speak.

He clears his throat as you stop at a red light. “How was your week?” His voice is calm but noticeably strained. 

“It's been fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” you respond. It seems odd that he wants to talk about you when there is very clearly something he wants to say. “Yours?”

“Mine?” he deflects, “Just more of the same shit.” He scoffs as the light turns green and the car starts moving again. He’s lying, it's obvious. Javi is a terrible communicator but you had thought that your relationship had at least moved past this part. Hadn’t you proved you were always there for him?

You place a comforting hand on his thigh, rubbing at the fabric. “Hey,” speaking softly, “What happened?”

He refuses to look at you, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. Shifting his jaw, his anger rises heavily. His words are lethally cold when he snarls out, “Heard Garza came to town.”

Your stomach falls through the floor as you turn away from him, biting your lip to suppress from cursing out. This isn’t about him dealing with his problems; it’s still this bullshit. Despair and fury swirl within you while you grab at your throbbing forehead. “Why do you care?” you spit out. He’s the one hell-bent on keeping this casual. He’s the one constantly reminding you of that. And yet, you sleep with one other person and he’s so damn petulant.

“I bet it wasn’t even good.” Javi tries but fails to mask the jealous hurt in his voice. 

“It was.” You’re not sparing his feelings tonight. 

“God fucking dammit!” His anger peaks and the tires screech from him pulling over quickly. He slams his hands against the wheel before reaching into his pocket for a smoke. He runs his hands through his hair after taking a long drag, letting the nicotine soothe him. “Why did you do it?” His voice returns to the scarily calm tone.

“Because I wanted to.” It’s getting harder to contain the angry tears flooding your eyes.

“Why did you fucking fuck him?” The slight crack in his voice shatters your heart in two.

“You can’t be jealous.”

“Why the fuck not?” 

“You want this casual. This is _friends who fuck_ remember? It goes two ways. You take full advantage but god forbid I do!”

“It’s not the same. You and I…” he trails off, “It’s fucking different.”

“Because I fucked someone I like instead of paying someone random?” you scoff. “It’s not different. We’re just friends.”

He digs his palms into his eyes, “It’s different.”

“Why do you even care?” you sneer. “You’ve made it very clear that I can’t expect something more serious.”

Burying his face in his hands, he doesn’t answer. You recognize you’ve struck a nerve and slink back into the seat. Its his fault, _the fucking bastard_. He’s so afraid of being in a relationship that he can’t admit how much he needs you, even when he’s in the midst of a jealous rage. Of course you choose to love a man whose head is so far up his own ass.

Pitying him, you sigh. “Let’s just go back to my place.” You rub his shoulder lightly, hoping to calm him. “We can hash it out more comfortably.”

He huffs and starts the car. Anger still rolls off him, shoulders locked as he drives, but you’re sure he’s done yelling. The ride back is aggressively silent, neither of you willing to be the one who breaks. 

Upon returning, he slams the door dramatically as he heads toward the building. He storms ahead of you, no doubt in an attempt to keep his wall up, but you grab his hand to lace your fingers into his. He melts to your touch and you wordlessly coax him into your apartment.

You grab two whiskey glasses and he slumps onto the couch into the Javi sized rut that he’s successfully formed. You use the whiskey he bought in hopes that it’ll subconsciously calm him. After handing him his glass you lean against him as you sit and press a soft kiss to his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching down to play with your fingers.

“For what?”

“For getting angry. It’s not right.”

“No, it's not.” you answer curtly. His fingers tighten around yours but relax once you lay your head against his shoulder.

After a long pause of silence he drops your hand and rubs at his neck. “How was your date with Garza?”

Lifting your head up, you shoot him a confused look. “You really want to know?”

“No,” he grumbles, seeking solace from the liquid in his glass.

“Then why ask?”

“Conversation.”

Another long pause lingers until you put your glass on the table and ask, “Why are we different?”

“What?”

“In the car. You said our relationship is different. What did you mean?”

He stares at you for a while before answering. “This is different from casual relationships I’ve had before.”

“Why?”

“You.” His jaw shifts but his eyes stay locked on yours.

“What about me?” you ask. He looks at you like he’s searching for something but turns away without saying anything, taking another sip. “Javi, answer me. Fuck, it’s like pulling teeth with you.”

“I don’t like thinking of you with other people.” His lip twitches and he quickly looks your face up and down, waiting for your response.

Your eyes widen as you speak calmly. “That’s not exactly a casual friend thought.”

“No,” he admits with another shift of his jaw.

“What are we doing, Javi?” you ask, exhausted.

“Talking.”

“No, what are we doing? This is the first time we’ve spoken since...that day.”

“I’m sorry.” His face droops with another layer of sadness.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m not what you need me to be.”

“And what do I need you to be?”

He pinches his forehead. “Fuck, what is this? How many questions are you going to ask me?” he groans.

“I’m just trying to get you to tell me why this won’t work because I don’t understand.”

“People that get tied up with me always end up worse than before.”

You roll your eyes. “Javier you are not a black hole. I’m not going to crumble,” you say flatly.

“It’s not worth the risk.”

“You could let me have a say too instead of deciding for the both of us,” you reply, your voice rising.

“I don’t think you realize the stakes. This is more than just I’ll break your heart. You could get hurt, really hurt,” he says matching your aggression.

“Don’t give me that. I am not fragile. I can hold my own,” you spit back.

“You don’t know what I have seen. What’s happened to people close to me?” he snarls loudly.

“Then tell me” you bark angrily. He scowls and turns away from you. Slowly his frustration calms down and he looks back at you with tired eyes. You take a deep breath and sigh, simmering your temper. “You don’t have to tell me right now but how can you use what I don’t know against me if you’re the one refusing to tell me it.”

“You really can make me see my own bullshit, huh?” he laughs.

“Because I’m good for you.” you shout, poking his chest to accentuate your point.

“You are,” he admits with a soft smile.

“And you like me.”

“I do.”

“And I love you.”

“Yeah...” He hangs his head.

You pick his chin up with a finger so he’ll look at you. “So what are we going to do?”

“Be friends,” he says flatly.

Dropping your hand, you throw your head back against the couch. “You drive me crazy Javi but you can’t act like this.” He scoffs after a sip of his drink. “I’m serious. You’re pig-headed and want it both ways.”

“The fuck you mean by that?” He quips, taking another dramatic sip of the whiskey, _the bastard_.

“You want me all to yourself but you refuse to let me have you. I’m sick of you denying what this is. God, Javi I want to love you but you make it so damn hard.” Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his toned shoulder. “I won’t let myself love you anymore until you’re ready to love me back.” 

He says nothing but you feel his torso deflate beneath you. He must be thinking intensely but you don’t dare open your eyes, fearing what emotion is on his face. If he leaves, if he denies this again, you have to be done. No exceptions. This bastard has you wrapped around his finger but you’ll be damned if you continue with this constant back and forth. You have to have a line, you won’t fool yourself into thinking this is ok.

The clinking of his glass startles you as he places his whiskey on the table, pulling away from you. When you open your eyes you’re met with Javi’s softened face, no longer riddled with anguish. 

His touch is tender, cupping your face with one hand, leaning down to gingerly kiss your lips. Your heart flutters at the taste of whiskey and smoke, a mixture that is comfortably familiar. Your kisses deepen, melting away the thoughts of heartache. You think of nothing but him, his touch, his taste, his body as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

His hands desperately grab at your skin, pulling you as close to him as he can, not willing to leave any space between you. You latch onto his shirt collar to stabilize yourself, his roughness making your knees go weak. He breathes your name, kissing down your neck, biting and tasting the sensitive skin. Gasping, you snake your fingers in his hair, encouraging him to continue. 

Slipping his hand under your t-shirt, a groan escapes when he finds you braless. You were already headed to bed when he decided to knock on your door. While he massages your tender breasts, you’re fumbling with his belt, trying to rid him of his pants.

Impatiently, he jerks back and rips his shirt off his torso, buttons scattering aimlessly. Your mouth falls open at his sudden aggression, eager for his next move. Milking your attention, he slowly stands and disrobes himself until he's before you in all his glory. In the soft glow of the lights he glistens, beads of sweat shining off his masculine figure. 

You quickly slide off your shorts and shirt to blindly fling them across the room. His lustful look has your pussy dripping, aching for him. Holding your gaze, he saunters back to you, spreading your thighs to kneel between them. Sensation builds as your bodies meld, the warmth of his skin on yours, the hardness of his cock growing against your thigh. Your focus darts from his dark eyes to his swollen lips, the lust building rapidly.

He hesitates mere centimeters from contact with your lips, the air he exhales tickling your skin. Suddenly and all at once, you’re drowning in bruising kisses. Grasping at his face for support, you push all your hurt feelings into him, melting them away on his tongue. 

Caressing his way down your body, his fingers dance until they reach your folds, pleased with the wetness they find. Your breath hitches as he slides a finger in, then another, to pump into you. It's the addition of his thumb rubbing circles on your clit that has you praising him, barely audible, pulling away from his mouth to crash your forehead into his. 

He’s memorized your body, the way it responds to his touch, the ways to make you sing. “Cum for me, amor,” he drawls, his voice smooth like butter as he curls his fingers into your most tender area. Peaking, the pleasure flows through you and he swallows your moans with his lips. You run your fingers through his hair while he peppers kisses along your jaw, coming down from your high.

Desperate for more, you egg him on. “Javi,” you coo, running your nails down his spine to rest on his ass. With a low moan, he rocks back to line his cock to your entrance, gathering some of your slick to coat himself. He thrusts in slowly until his hips are fully against yours. As your back arches, Javi’s hands worship you, trying to trace every inch. Encouraging him to progress, you roll your hips but his strong hands still you as he wraps his arms underneath to pull you up close to him.

You want to admire his luscious brown eyes but find them shut tight, focusing on the sensation of you. You plant a wet kiss to his torso and clench in bursts around his cock.

“Fuck” he groans lowly, tightening his hold on you. Despite his death grip, you dare slide yourself slowly along his hardness, using the strength of your hip muscles. The soft movements allow you to revel in every throb of his cock, every twitch of his body. His breathing deepens; he won’t last much longer.

His eyes dart open when your hand cups his face, his loving gaze engulfing you. “Javi,” you moan into his lips, kissing him like it was the first time. The tenderness is what he needed. He manages a few forceful thrusts before he’s spilling into you, your name on his lips. Falling back into the sofa, you pull him with you.

He chuckles as he wipes the sweat from your brow, his face full of love. You reach out for his free hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re so beautiful, amor,” he whispers. You can’t help but smile while looking back at him, fully falling for him again. He plants one last sweet kiss to your swollen lips before leaning back so you can get up. You watch him reach for his cigarettes as you head to the bathroom.

 _Holy Fuck._ He called you amor. He’s never said that to you before, that wouldn’t be remotely casual. If it took the drama of sleeping with someone else for Javi to admit his true feelings then maybe it was worth it. The way he touched you, consumed you, seemed to say more than he could. 

When you come back to the room your stomach drops to the floor when you find Javi fully dressed. “What the hell? Are you leaving?” you ask, crestfallen. Not again.

“Yeah, well…I’ve got to go.” The love is gone from him. The room is colder now and hazy from the smoke. He furrows his brows and looks down to lace his shoes, conveniently losing your eye contact. 

Dumbfounded, you slink against the wall as your legs give out from the violent shift of emotions. “I can’t even believe you, Javi.” Your shock turns to anger, your voice cold. “Get the fuck out.”

“What?” The shock in his voice mirrors the terror on his face. You’ve run out of sympathy, this is ridiculous, cruel even.

“Get the fuck out, Javier.” Anger bubbles over the false calm of your cold voice. “If you’re going to deny this, if you’re going to act like I’m someone you can just leave, then you better do it.” It’s all your strength to hold your tears back.

“I…I can’t give you what you want,” He rambles, hoping you won’t do what he knows is coming.

“The fuck you know about what I want Javier. I’ll be damned if you’ve ever asked.” You wipe at the tears leaking uncontrollably down your face, feeling so stupid for sleeping with him tonight, for believing he was ready, for not demanding an answer beforehand. “I’m not asking for a grand commitment here.”

His stomach knots when he sees the tears, “Amor, I—“ He steps toward you but you hold your hand out in protest.

“Tell me this is more than friends who fuck, Javier. You don’t call someone amor if you don’t mean it,” you plead into his eyes, his last chance.

Every fiber of him wants to embrace you, tell you you’re right. He loses however and bites his lip as his self-sabotage wins out when thoughts of how he’ll ruin you floods his brain. It’s nasty and hurts bad now but he won’t drag you down. He swallows his breath and lies. “I’m sorry. It’s not.”

You close your eyes as you suppress your cries. This is it; he’s pushed you too far. Your voice is eerily calm as you repeat, “Get the fuck out, Peña.” You don’t open your eyes again until you hear the door close behind him. 

The rest of the evening is spent in turmoil. Yet again you let him waltz in and break your heart, even after all your promises to yourself. Time and time again you end up in the same place, alone and cold, left by Javier in the middle of the night. Looking back over the events, you finally realize your glaring mistake.

Damn it, you never forced him to answer, you just caved again, unable to resist his touch. You assumed the sex was his way of responding to your words but you were wrong, it was just another means to an end. 

Despite your mind being flooded with overthinking, you somehow slowly slump into sleep.

**~~**

Maybe it’s rage or maybe it’s foolishness but you wake up and decide that you’re not done with Javi. You always let him walk away before you tell him everything you want to. You let him cross the boundaries you set for yourself. You’re going to give him one last chance, fully clothed and of sober mind. Clamoring out of your apartment, you head to the nearest bodega for breakfast, making sure to order a second meal to-go.

With his breakfast in your hand you gather your nerves and knock on his door. Something clangs to the floor and you hear his feet rustle before the door finally swings open. He looks like hell, probably didn’t get more than a few hours sleep, and he definitely had more whiskey after leaving you. His face scrunches in anguish when he recognizes who woke him up, his voice scratchy and weak. “I don’t want to fight right now.” 

You push past him and sit down at his kitchen table. “I brought you breakfast. Sit down.”

He groans your name while digging his palms into his eyes. “I don’t—” 

You cut him off. “Are you going to argue or are you going to eat?” 

Shoving the door shut, he reluctantly joins you, grumbling a thank you as he unwraps his sandwich. You ordered it extra greasy, predicting his current state. His body relaxes as he takes his first bite, savoring the flavor. You fetch him a glass of water from the kitchen and watch him eat, finalizing the speech in your head.

“Javi, I’m going to be honest with you,” you begin. The panic sets in his eyes as he stares back at you. “This isn’t working for me anymore.”

“We agreed to nothing serious.” His tone is more pointed than he meant.

“I know what we fucking agreed Javi,” you sneer, momentarily loosing your composure. “Are you going to deny that things have changed between us?” Frozen, he says nothing. You huff and lean into the chair. “I am being as clear as I possibly can. I want you Javi.”

“Tell that to Garza,” he grits through his teeth.

“My fucking God, Javier,” your frustration spills out. “You have absolutely no right to bring that up! How many women have been in this apartment since we started? For someone so hell-bent on keeping this _casual_ …” The color drains from his face. “The double standard with you is incredible.”

You run your fingers down your face. “This is ridiculous Javi. This isn’t about other people. I’m telling you that I want you, explicitly. And even though you say otherwise, the way you act with me says that you feel the same.” He reaches out for your hand as he says your name, but you pull it away before he can make contact. 

“You put me through hell, Javi. It’s the moments when you decide to leave. I watch your eyes as you decide I’m not worth it. And I think, is it me? What did I do? I have always been there for you, been so accepting of you, tried so hard to please you. But still you pull away. I’m done with it. Stop fighting and allow me to love you.”

He gulps, knowing everything you’re saying is true. He can’t stop thinking about how you’re wasting your time here. “No. You listen to me, it’s nothing like that. I don’t leave because of you I leave because of the risks…”

“Risks,” you scoff, the tears welling in your eyes, “Yeah Javi, I couldn’t possibly understand the risks. I know nothing about your work, or your situation, or what really goes on in your head. Stop lying.”

“I can’t fucking do this with you,” his voice is trembling as his hands rub his face. You’re not sure if he means the fight or the relationship.

Tears involuntarily fall down your cheeks. “No Javi. You can, you just won’t. And until you stop taking the easy road, you’ll stay like this.”

“The easy road?” he scoffs, “This is easy? The fuck do you mean?”

“It's easy to deny your feelings. Its easy to fuck hookers to drown your thoughts, they’ll leave and you don’t have to worry. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t be in my bed most nights. You wouldn’t be coming over just to hang around. You’re so scared of what could happen that you don’t even try. I was fine before, I was. But things have changed and I need you to either be all in or not at all.”

He can do nothing but stare at you, distraught. He wonders why you’re even still around after he’s hurt you so much. He thinks you deserve better than him, you’re so sure of your feelings and he can’t even admit his damn need for you out loud.

Realizing how much you dropped on him during his breakfast, you try to soften the blow. You reach out to caress his hand. “I don’t expect an answer right now…but that is where I stand. I am fully in this, but if you’re going to keep me at a distance and get insanely jealous when I look elsewhere…I need to move on.” You cup his face to try and prove your sincerity.

His face changes into an unreadable expression, his body tenses, and he averts his gaze. “I’m not doing this,” he deflects. 

You swallow your breath in disappointment. _Well at least I’ve said it._ He can’t even accept that this conversation is happening. 

You have to be done to save your own sanity. You stand and plant a soft kiss to his forehead. “Ok Peña,” your voice is calm as you cross the room and open the door. “Don’t come looking for me.” You toss the stinging words over your shoulder, slipping from view.

Trying to convince yourself you did the right thing, you go over your words again, slumping into Javi’s divot in your couch, tears leaking out of you. You love him, you do, but you have to stop trying. There will be other men. There _have_ been other men. You had Garza in your bed just a week ago.

You should have kept it at just sex; it was good sex. But then he kept coming around more often, more regularly, and there was a point where he came most nights of the week. But god did it sting every time he left. This is going to hurt like hell. Was it even worth it?

**~~**

In the following days you do your best to avoid him. You bury yourself in work, deny Connie’s dinner invites, and only come home to sleep lest he get the nerve to knock on your door. You’ve successfully cleared your mind for a few hours and are finalizing a document when you hear Nicole loudly giggle, “Oh, Javi.” Peaking around your office door you see him shamelessly flirting, his hand admiring her new polish color. Anger surges through you and you slam the door shut. _Fuck._

“Well that was dramatic,” Williams chides, swirling around in his chair. His tone changes when he sees your face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong?” Full of concern he rushes to you. You crumble into a crying mess in his arms. Keeping all your drama inside has backfired and now you can’t control what is spilling out of you. Seeing him, flirting no less, shattered your defenses. 

“Is he gone?” you muster out.

“Who?”

“Peña.” 

Williams’ eyes widen in scorn. Releasing you, he peeps through the blind over the window to find Javi sitting down, legs jittering, hands covering his face. “No, he’s waiting for Noonan. He looks pretty upset too.”

“Fuck. He has a meeting today,” you remember, pinching your forehead. “When he’s in her office, I need to get out of here.”

Williams' heart aches seeing you so dejected. You’re the strong one, always composed, always with a back-up plan. He hates Javier, how dare he toy with you. He suspected for a long time that there was something going on, why else would Peña be around so regularly? You had seemed happy but obviously things had changed. He had no other beef with the guy, but making you cry at work? That’s a declaration of war.

“We’re ending early today. Noonan can deal with it,” Williams decides. “I’ll tell Nicole on our way out.” Without waiting for a response, he packs up his station and collects his things.

“We?” you ask him, dumbfounded, “Williams I’ll be fine, really. There’s really no need. I just need to—” 

He cuts you off, “No we’re leaving. We’re going somewhere to eat and you’re going to tell me everything so I can decide on whether or not I’m going to kill him.”

Silent tears fall as you chuckle. He always knows what to say. “It's not your job to take care of me. I’ll be ok.”

“Listen, you usually call the shots but every general gets advice from their number two every once in a while. For you, that time is now. We’re going.” He hands you your bag he’s packed and checks the blinds again.

“You’re not a number two,” you whimper while placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, “We’re partners.”

“Oh please.” He rolls his eyes. “This place would fall to shit without you. I’m happy to follow orders, Captain.” His sarcastic salute brings a smile to your face. “But right now, I’m in charge and you’re getting your ass in my car.” 

The dinner with Williams is the first time you’ve relaxed since your implosion. He’s so easy to talk to, actively listening as you recap the whole telenovela that is you and Javi, though you spare him certain details that you figure your surrogate brother would be happy to remain in the dark about. When you finish, exhaling into your seat, he pats your hand in sympathy. “Well your after hours have been much more interesting than mine,” he teases.

You snort, caught off guard by the joke, “Shut up.”

Pleased he’s made you smile, Williams takes your hand in his. “Hey, this will pass.” He speaks so matter-of-factly that you almost believe him. “You’ve given him every opportunity.” Nodding in agreement, you take a sip of your drink, hissing from the sting of the liquor. 

“It hurts, you know. Getting a taste of it before he second-guessed everything.”

“And he’ll always regret what he missed out on.” Raising his glass, he clinks it with yours to down the rest of his beer. You smile to yourself, silently thanking whoever was responsible for making Williams your partner. 

**~~**

Never wanting to embarrass you, Williams never lets you know the extent to which he protects you. Over the next few weeks he actually pays attention to the schedule, instead of relying on you, to make sure you’re out of the building when there’s a DEA meeting scheduled. He retrieves paperwork from the other departments, feigning a need to stretch his legs or a new cup of coffee so that you don’t need to wander the embassy. He offers to carpool to work most days, often trapping you into dinner afterwards so that you don’t wallow alone in your apartment. His girlfriend Luz loves you anyway and cherishes the extra compliments on her cooking.

Content with how your mood has improved, Williams' body stiffens when the bastard dares to show up randomly. He hears the gruff voice exchange with Nicole and quickly glances to you. Seeing you engrossed in conversation on the phone, he darts out the office and closes the door behind him, hoping you didn’t notice. Javi is frozen, feet from him, not expecting this obstacle. Williams stares him down, waiting for him to crack.

“I need to talk with her.” Javi says, shifting his weight between his feet.

“I work here too. What do you need?” Williams doesn’t budge, his voice calm.

“No, it's not about work, I…” Javi trails off.

“If it’s not about work, you really shouldn’t be bothering her, should you?” he grits out through a strained smile, “It’s not like you have any relationship with her outside of this office.” Williams’ jab hits Javi in his soul.

“What would you know? It’s complicated.” He spits defensively. Javi’s been in misery for weeks, if he could just see you, talk to you.

“I know. I have worked really hard to get her back to normal after you broke her.” His words are cold and menacing. “And I am not going to let you undo all that just because you _need to talk_. Have you made up your damn mind, Peña?”

That catches Javi off guard. _Oh._ His jaw shifts and his fingers wiggle nervously, remembering how this all could have been avoided. It would have never gotten this bad if he wasn’t a coward. Funny how he can run into gunfire but you’re his kryptonite. But he finally pushed you too far; you've got people to keep him away. Dejected, Javi gives up and turns to leave. 

Suddenly the door swings open and you’re standing there, mouth agape, deciphering the scene. Williams hangs his head in failure, cursing Javi in his mind for daring to show his face. You stare into those brown eyes you’ve missed so much, seeing the hope flash across them. You step towards him as if you’re about to say something, but then quickly retreat and return to your office, shutting the door behind you. You have to hold strong.

Seeing you re-ignites Javi, flooding him with all the love for you he’s suppressed, the longing tugging on his heart. He’s ruined his chance with you, his damn fears preventing it, but maybe he can still keep you as a friend. A real friend, not like what you were pretending before. A slow constant torture, but he’ll endure it to keep you in his life. He thinks he’ll die if you don’t look at him again. 

**~~**

The next day a familiar two knocks rap on your apartment door. You tense, already knowing who it is, and decide whether or not you dare answer. Your will gives out and you find him there cradling two coffee cups and a weak smile. After an awkward greeting you let him in, your heart breaking at the banality.

His heart fluttered when you opened the door, but noticing your hesitation he decides to ease into the conversation. He talks about nothing, just trying to keep you engaged to find some love left in your voice. 

Sitting far away from him, you listen as he rambles about Escobar, Steve, Colombia, anything without any real importance. There’s a certain tension in your words when you chime in giving advice, offering your opinion; he can’t tell if it's sorrow or annoyance.

Picking at the label on the cup, he asks “Hey…we’re still friends right?” 

Knowing in your heart it’s a lie, you respond, “Yeah Peña, we’re still friends.”

He doesn’t believe it when you say it, your voice devoid of all feeling. He realizes his hope was in vain. The silence is uncomfortable as you both grieve silently, keeping the agony to yourselves.

You need him to leave so you can openly fall apart, he can’t see how bad this is breaking you. “I’m sorry Peña,” you say curtly, “But I’ve got things to do today.”

Registering you want him gone, all he can do is blink back his tears. He really has messed it up beyond repair. Why didn’t he just say it as soon as you opened the door? Why did he try to act like he didn’t want to reach over and kiss you instead of talking nonsense? Even when he feels the door closing behind him, he can’t turn back to call out to you, to tell you that you’ve been right all along, how sorry and stupid he is, accepting that this is what he gets for living as he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader has given Javi three chances...and he's sabotaged himself in them all.  
> Despite not always following her own rules, she's put her foot firmly down.  
> Javi has himself convinced that it'll be better in the long run if he stays in his denial.  
> Something big might have to happen for him to realize he's wrong...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is changing for the reader.

You jolt at the sounds of knocking on your door, not expecting any visitors. Opening it cautiously, you sigh in relief to find Connie in the hallway. “Connie, it’s good to see you. Come in.” 

She hurries past you and takes a seat at your kitchen table while you head to the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” you ask, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet.

“Whiskey is fine,” she says, not turning to look at you. You’re a little caught off guard, whiskey isn’t usually her go to, it’s an unusual request for her.

Sitting down next to her, you place the glasses on the table and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Did I do something?” she blurts out.

“What?”

“Did I do something to you?”

“No, Connie. Why would you think that?” Your brow furrows but your heart aches.

“I’ve barely seen you in weeks.” The look she gives you breaks you in two. You had been so caught up in yourself you didn’t realize it has been so long.

“Oh I…”

“I really need you right now. I don’t know what I’m doing. Why are you avoiding me?” You notice her voice is on edge, sensing she might cry.

“Oh Connie, no! You have it wrong.” You reach out and grab her hand. “I’m not avoiding _you_ at all. I’m…”

“What?” she asks, growing impatient when you stall.

“Do you remember when I said I might have been seeing someone? And that I should tell him how I feel?”

“Yes, of course,” she says curtly.

“Well it didn’t go well,” you huff quietly.

She clutches her chest as her face falls to a pitying look. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry”

“And it was Javier,” you add, avoiding her eye contact.

She’s too stunned to do anything but stare bewildered at you. You look up to find her face scrunched in confusion, trying to put the pieces together. It feels like ages before she speaks again. “Javier…Peña?...Well now this all makes sense.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask defensively.

“I noticed the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. I just didn’t know you felt the same,” she admits before shooting back half the whiskey in her glass. “And Steve has been complaining about his mood for weeks. He hasn’t joined us for dinner either.”

“Oh”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” 

“I thought he would leave me sooner,” you answer honestly. “The slightest bit of asking for more always had him out the door. I stuck my foot down, all or nothing, and he chose nothing.”

“Oh honey,” she sighs before giving you a hug. Normally, you would hate to be pitied so much, but the turmoil left you so raw that you let her fuss over you.

“But Connie, I'm so selfish. You’ve been having such a hard time and I haven’t made time for you. I’m so sorry,” you plead, pulling back from the hug to look into her eyes. You owe it to her to at least apologize to her face after leaving her in the dark for so long.

“It’s okay. I mean it’s not okay. But, it’s okay.” You nod, understanding exactly what she means.

“How are you doing now? Are you feeling any better?” you ask, trying to switch the focus back to her.

“Not really. I still haven’t felt safe since they took Steve,” she admits.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Oh you mean have I talked to Steve _‘My-Work-Is-Here’_ Murphy? Yes, I have,” she answers sarcastically. 

You chuckle, happy to see she can still joke before speaking genuinely. “I’m sorry Connie. I don’t know what to say besides I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, I really need your friendship right now,” she says with a soft smile. 

“I need yours too,” you respond, returning her smile.

You spend the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch apologizing to each other and catching up on stories. Apparently Olivia loves crawling at top speeds now, so half the time Connie turns around to find her daughter almost in another room. Oh, and of course, Alicia and Manuel, that flirty doctor from months ago, started dating and Connie has walked in on them in the records room while they’re sticking their tongues down each other’s throats too many times for her liking.

She smacks your arm when you tell her about Garza. It had completely slipped your mind to let her know and at this point it’s been over a month since it happened. She listens intently and rubs your shoulders as you recount the highlights of you and Javi. It feels good to say it again out loud, the last person you told was Williams, and you only told him so much, sparing him the explicit details.

It’s always so easy to hang with Connie, you feel like you’ve known her for longer than you have. You’re grateful to have such a natural relationship in your life. 

She glances at the clock and freaks when she sees how late it is, giving you a big, strong hug before scurrying out of your apartment. After locking the door, you let out a big sigh and head to bed, relieved to have at least one person back in your life.

**~~**

A few days later, Connie leaves Steve with Olivia and you two go out to a bar alone. Both of you have been desperate for a night where you’re able to drink, dance, and enjoy each other’s company without the strain of DEA drama. And you’ve finally been allowed it.

Once you enter the bar, it’s as if a protective bubble surrounds you. The only things in the world you can think of reside inside the dingy four walls. Tonight is about having fun with each other and dancing badly, sipping down a few of the fruity drinks that Connie loves. 

Someone could have confused the pair of you for college students by how giddy and carefree you are. Buzzing around like flies, by the end of the night you’ve covered every corner of the place and made friends with the bartender, earning you each a free drink. Because he’s so generous with his pour, you accept the phone number he slips you when you pay the tab, throwing it into your back pocket for when you’re ready to date again. She’s thrilled when you tell her, hoping that it’s a sign you’re ready to move on.

Before Connie leaves your place, she bear-hugs you in the doorway, clinging to you extra tightly. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or because you haven’t been this drunk together in a while, but you sense there’s an extra feeling in the embrace. 

When she finally lets go she grabs your hand, giving it a playful squeeze before running up the stairwell to her apartment. You smile to yourself watching her go. 

You really like Connie. She’s always been so nice to you. You wish you hadn’t felt like you needed to keep her at arm’s length because of Javier, it wasn’t fair to her. She deserves the world.

**~~**

It’s late on a Thursday night when a few absurdly loud knocks hit your door, jolting you out of your armchair.  _ Fuck.  _ When did everyone decide that your door deserves to be beaten? Throwing it open, you’re shocked to find a visibly drunk Steve propping himself up against the entryway. He’s breathing heavily through his nose and seems to be in terrible pain, a look you’re not used to seeing him in.

“Did you know?” he growls assertively. His eyes are filled with a boiling rage. You’ve never seen him at this level before.

“Jesus, Steve, you’re drunk. Did I know what?” 

“ _ Fuck you _ ! That she was going to fucking leave,” he says aggressively, raising his voice louder than he should.

“What? What are you talking about?” you ask, having no clue what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Connie’s fucking gone. And she took Olivia too,” he spits out, as if you already knew.

“Wh…what?” you stammer. A chill runs down your spine, finally realizing what he’s saying. Connie is…gone? No. That’s not right.

“You’re her best friend here, how did you not know?” he sneers. He’s looking at you like you’re to blame, as if it wasn’t his job and lack of ability to ensure her safety that caused her to leave. “Fuck you,” he adds when you don’t respond.

“Steve!” you scream as he grabs your arm, pushing him away. “I knew she was unhappy but I didn’t know what she was going to do,” you say while he calms down, leaning himself on the wall. 

“Bullshit!” he yells, slamming his fist against the plaster.

You speak calmly, trying to get him to lower his voice. “I asked her, I did. She never gave me an answer.”

“She’s gone, she’s fucking gone. She went back to Florida. And she took my daughter with her.” He’s muttering to himself with his eyes closed but you’re close enough to hear him.

“Steve I…” You try to console him but your words fail you.

“Fuck you, why didn’t you tell her to stay,” he barks, turning his anger on you as he opens his eyes, hovering over you. You never have been intimidated by him before, sometimes you couldn’t understand how he’s a cop. But the look on his face let’s you know how completely unrelenting he can be. “Don’t you know how important my work is?” he snarls.

“Steve that’s really out of line,” you scoff sharply.

“I don’t care. She’s gone. She’s fucking gone. She went to live with her sister.” His eyes look dead as he stares down at the floor. His hair is drooping and his whole outfit is wrinkled. You wonder what happened to him before he showed up here.

You reach out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…it’s going to be—”

He cuts you off by shaking off your hand abruptly. “Don’t fucking tell me that. Fuck you.”

“Alright Steve, fuck off. I’m really sorry but fuck you. Go home,” you hiss, speaking clearly but raising your voice to match his.

“Why bother, they’re not there.” He falls into a squat, fingers digging as he drags them down his face. A small whimper escapes before he starts to cry softly. You feel for him, completely, but he’s too belligerent to be let into your place. You rest a hand on his back and encourage him to stand up, leading him over towards the stairwell.

His body lies limp around you while you try to give him a comforting hug. He’s too far-gone to console though, the alcohol and trauma numbing him too much. “Go home Steve. Go to sleep.” He nods his head before slowly moving himself upstairs to his apartment. You wait until you hear his door close before returning to your own.

You barely make it across the threshold before you slump down on the ground, leaning yourself against the wall after closing the door. The tears start flowing out of you as you’re finally able to cry, not needing to be strong for Steve anymore. She left, and she didn’t say anything. Now you understand why she had hugged you so hard the last time you saw her. You let yourself sob, grieving for all your lost relationships.

Javi, gone. Connie, gone. Olivia, gone. And at the rate Steve is spiraling, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll be gone soon too. How did everything turn to shit so quickly? Peeling yourself off the floor, you take a hot shower, trying to cleanse yourself of all the pain. You curl into bed around a pillow, grabbing on to it for dear life. Shutting your eyes tight, you let the sadness flow through you until you slowly drift into sleep.

**~~**

The next morning is no better. The weather is threatening to storm, which is fitting but no less depressing. Waking up to the dark clouds instead of the warm sunshine really sets the mood for the day. On your commute into work, you seriously consider the consequences of passing the embassy and driving until you run out of gas. But you shake off the feeling and submit yourself to a day of work, ignoring your whim.

The loss of Connie and Olivia hits you hard and you’re unable to function, zoning out multiple times in the day. Unfortunately, you chose the wrong day to have an internal crisis and because you’ve been distracted all day, you now have to stay late to finish the time-sensitive documents.

Everyone heads home and lights turn off around you while you work frantically, trying to catch up before it gets too late. Slapping the report on Noonan’s desk, you glance at the clock and find it’s already almost 10pm.  _ Fuck.  _ What a great way to start a weekend.

It's a long, silent drive home and even with the radio on it's hard to focus on the road. Parking at your building, you linger in the driver’s seat, staring out at nothing, finding the strength to get up and walk into your apartment. It takes a surprisingly long time for you to decide that you would in fact rather sleep in your bed tonight than here in the car. With a groan, you finally get out and enter the building.

Opening your door, you’re surprised to find the lights on. Furrowing your brow, you try and recall your morning. It was gloomy but you do remember flicking them off before you headed out. Worry builds in your gut as you continue to enter, failing to think of a reason for the light.

A walk down the hall leaves you breathless when you find him solemnly sitting on the couch smoking a cig.  _ Javier.  _ It's been a while since you’ve seen him, let alone had him in your apartment. Composing yourself from the shock, a million thoughts race through your mind. He’s too out of it to notice you and you’re able to get a good look at him. He looks a mess, body slumped into his spot, clothes wrinkled, face heavy with pain. 

At the sound of your bag on the kitchen counter, his head jolts up and he offers a soft smile. “Sorry,” he says meekly, snuffing out the butt in the ashtray adding to the already half-dozen others.  _ How long has he been here? _ His face is fraught with exhaustion, he’s hurting bad. __

“I know the key is for emergencies. I didn’t know how long you’d be…and I needed to see you.” He sighs, lightly rubbing his forehead, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact.

You had never seen him so exposed, so raw. Your stubborn, impenetrable man is on your couch, defeated. You wonder when the last time he let someone see him like this was. Despite your attempts to get him to connect with you he always kept a part of him away, _the bastard_. But now, he sits there truly vulnerable, and it’s breaking your heart.

You should be mad at him. You should kick him out. You’ve given him so many chances, too many, and now he shows up uninvited after you said all or nothing. But even after all the drama, you still love him, still miss him and can’t reject him when he’s like this _. _

You take off your jacket and step out of your shoes, slowly walking towards him to straddle his lap. His body tenses beneath you and you ease it by cupping his face in your hands. He relaxes into you and closes his eyes, savoring your touch. You didn’t plan on a speech but the words start flowing out of you.

“Javi,” you begin, “You are safe here. You are safe with  _ me _ .” You kiss his forehead tenderly. “You work so hard. You try so hard to make things right. Whatever it is, I don’t care. Come to me and I will remind you why you are loved.” You gingerly press your forehead against his. “You are brave. You are strong. You are  _ stubborn _ . You are determined. You are  _ a bastard _ . You sacrifice so much. Forgive yourself.” You brush your hand across his chest, resting it over his heart. “I wish you could see you the way I do.”

Bringing your hand back to his chin, you tilt his head up so he is forced to look at you. Your stomach drops at the hurt in his eyes. He struggles to regain control of his emotions, fighting off the tears that have begun to well. 

You look into his brown eyes with all the love in your heart. “I love you, Javier.” You lean in and kiss him deeply, allowing yourself to pour the emotions you had shunned for weeks into him. Accepting the embrace, he kisses you back, equally intense, and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer. 

Panting, you pull away to push your forehead against his. You plant one more soft peck on his lips before standing up to leave his warmth. He doesn’t protest and you didn’t expect him to, he’s already told you he doesn’t want more. Crossing the room, you collect your belongings and head to your bedroom without looking back at him. You shove everything in your arms on the bed and rush to the mirror. 

Your lips are puffy. There’s a wild and teary look in your eye. Your lipstick is long gone.  _ What a sight _ . Slowly coming down from your wave of adrenaline, your disbelief begins to set in.  _ You shouldn’t have kissed him. Where did that speech come from? How were you so effortless?  _ You are so damn proud of yourself even though you’re so bewildered. Despite the anger you held against him, your real feelings had spewed out and your heart was once again out in danger.

You zap back to reality and move to put away your belongings, trying to distract yourself from the impending hurt. As you finish putting your coat on a hanger, you feel a presence pressing themselves into your back.  _ Javier.  _ He nuzzles his face in your hair and grips your waist to bring you into him. His touch is so desperate, like he feels you’ll fall apart without him. He lays his head in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling wet against your skin while the scents of cologne and smoke sink into you.

He stays like this for a moment too long and your anxiety panics. Your brain tortures you with the memory of him leaving time and time again after treating you so tenderly like this. When your body tenses, Javi reacts by draping one arm across you above your breasts and another over your stomach to secure his hold. He tilts his mouth and hungrily consumes your neck, lips and tongue worshipping the skin. A shockwave of pleasure jolts through you and you drop your coat in surprise, your mind forgetting its last thought.

He moves his kisses up to the base of your ear, his hot breath making your core drip, throbbing with longing. Barely above a whisper, you can hear his low voice. “I love you.” Your breath hitches and you grab his arm in shock. 

When you say nothing, Javier starts to pull away. To stop him, you squeeze his arm tighter and lean into him. He lets out a startled huff but keeps his place. You both stand there comfortable but breathless. 

After a few moments, you slowly turn to face him. Both of you look wild with messy hair and shirts wrinkled from touch. His body looks limped at the loss of your touch yet his eyes are alert, hungrily focused on you. The mutual lust is overwhelming.

A second wave of doubt crashes your mind and you start to slink away from him, wondering if you should believe him. Before you can take more than five steps his hands are on you. He pushes you against the wall and presses each of your arms up to keep you still. Stunned at his regained confidence, you stare back, allowing him to hold you like this, awaiting his next move with shortened breaths.

To focus your attention, Javi drawls your name so sweetly in that low voice that makes your heart rate increase. “I do not deserve you. I’ve hurt you so much. I should have told you a thousand times already, I love you. I wanted to push you away so you couldn’t be connected to me. I’ve seen terrible things done to people close to me. You’re safer with me just watching from afar.”

“But then Connie left and I...I hadn’t considered you leaving completely. I can’t...I can’t even imagine. Amor, there’s no reason you should still love me but...” He looks up to meet your gaze, building a warmth in your body. “I need you. I need you. And I need to show you what you mean to me.”

You blink in surprise and swallow a gasp. Slowly, he lets your arms fall to your sides. Scooping an arm around your waist, he caresses your face with the other, desperately searching your face for hesitation. He leans himself closer to your lips and when you’re barely apart, he stills, waiting for an answer. The panic set in his eyes is all you need as you decide to believe him, closing your eyes to bridge the gap between you.

The kiss is unlike others before it, so needy, so desperate. Your hands jump to the nape of his neck, urging him closer, pangs of pleasure cresting in your core. His hand leaves your face to brace against the wall, pushing against it to get closer to you.

With a surge of confidence, you tug on the belt loops of his pants, showing him what you want. He groans into your mouth, his kiss growing erratic, biting your lip and palming your ass with a tight grip. His touch is ecstasy, the roughness has you dripping. You dare graze your hand over his bulge to tease but he jerks his mouth away suddenly with a hungry grumble. A wicked smirk crosses your face, knowing what you’ve done. 

“No, amor,” he growls intently. You raise an eyebrow, confused at why he’s resistant to your touch. “I need to show you how much I need  _ you _ .” His eyes drink in your body, the heat of his gaze sending you further into the wall. Pawing at the bottom of your shirt, he delicately rids you of it, tossing it aside before quickly unzipping your pants. He kneels down before you and presses his forehead to your stomach. Slowly, he slides your pants down your legs to help you step out of them, savoring the reveal of your naked skin. 

He plants a wet kiss just above your underwear, the sensation causing you to whimper lightly. Standing back, his frenzied eyes take a moment to properly admire your figure. You’re only in an ordinary bra and panty set, but he makes you feel as if you’re adorned in diamonds. “Tan hermosa,” he praises. Suddenly shy, you turn your head and avert your gaze. He pounces on your exposed neck to begin another assault of kisses. And when you whine in pleasure, you can feel his lips smile into your skin.

He reaches around to unhook and toss your bra aside, hands immediately caressing your breasts, toying at the sensitive peaks. Humming into your neck, he plays with you, coaxing out your breathy reactions to his touch. One hand roams further down and plays at the hem of your panties. Your wanton moan cries out to beg him to continue. 

He slips a finger below to explore your already soaked folds. Swallowing a groan, he mutters praise about how wet you’ve gotten already and a second finger joins to play in your arousal. Locating your clit, he gives it a quick hard push to tease and the gasping whine you let out convinces him to focus his efforts.  _ Fuck _ . He lifts his head off your shoulder and watches you as he begins to rub circles. His eyes are feral, not looking away as he slides the two fingers into you, slowly thrusting. Your head snaps back, whimpering his name while he builds the warmth inside you.

You compose yourself enough to return to his gaze, the eye contact spurning him to pump faster. He adds his thumb to pressure your clit and you have to grip his shirt collar for support, moans spilling from your lips. The pleasure grows more intense and you’re suddenly very aware that you won’t last much longer. “Javi” you breathe out, “Javi, I’m…” You never finish the sentence, freezing with your mouth open.

“Yes amor,” he coos with a sly smile, “Cum.” His voice sends you over the edge and you’re coming undone on his fingers. He assists in extending the feeling, not letting up while you ride your orgasm out until you have to force his hand away. Settling down, you grasp his face in both of your hands, breathing his name as you connect foreheads. 

You glance down to see his bulge straining in the confines of his jeans and lightly drape a few fingers across the fabric. He flinches at your touch, teeth clenching. Liking the reaction, you begin to paw at it, feeling his heartbeat accelerate inside his chest. But he swipes your hand down to stop your movements once again. “Go sit on the edge of the bed” he growls. You’re confused as to why he still doesn’t want you to touch him but his tone wills you to oblige.

You sit on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up by your elbows. You lay there only clothed by your soaked panties but Javi is fully dressed,  _ the bastard _ . You want to help him disrobe and take his cock in your mouth. But Javi is back in control and you’re too turned on to disobey.

Turning to you, he walks until he is almost between your legs. Staring you down, he slowly unbuttons his tight shirt.  _ Fuck he’s gorgeous _ . Taking advantage of your fondness for his clothes, he takes pleasure in watching you ogle him, biting your lip to stifle your immense want. He kneels down between your legs and rests his arms on your thighs. Reaching out for him, you trace your fingers along his defined shoulders. 

He grabs your wandering hand to give it a tender kiss before leaning down closer and capturing your mouth for a proper one. Brushing your tongue along his bottom lip, you attempt to intensify the moment but he pulls back with a chuckle. “Amor, are you listening?” You cock your head, truly puzzled. “You think one orgasm shows you how much I need you?” You blink in surprise, stunned to silence. His tone changes from playful to authoritative. “Lay down. You’re going to feel what you mean to me.”  _ Fuck.  _ He’ll be the death of you.

He grabs your thighs with force, digging his fingers in, causing your back to arch from the pleasurable pain. He knows how you love to be touched, how you love to feel needed. He’s memorized every inch of your body. His grasp is bruising but the soft kisses he peppers all over are soothing to the sting. Once again pawing at your panty line, he slides the fabric all the way down and flings them to the ground. 

He spreads and props up your legs, hooking his arms under to pull your body to the edge of the bed. Groaning, he digs his face into your left thigh, so happy to be back where he belongs. “Hermosa,” he growls into one thigh. “Esta cuerpa perfecta…” he praises while kissing the other. Panting, he hovers over your dripping cunt, “…es mi vida.” Your brain is foggy with bliss from his words. You grind into the mattress, desperately needing more of his touch.

Devilishly, he licks a quick stripe up your wet folds that causes you moan louder than expected. You even stun yourself, caught off guard by your sensitivity and utter need for him to continue. Javi looks up, fixing his lustful eyes on yours. “Qué dulce,” he growls, his voice is lethally low.

Before you can respond his mouth returns to your pussy where his tongue searches for your clit. Javi has been known to tease and edge until you’re begging him, but not tonight. He’s not showing off or marking his territory, his sole goal is to give you as much pleasure as he can. 

His arm holds you down while you squirm with unstable breaths, reaching out to wrap your fingers in his hair. He frees his right hand to enter two fingers into you, easing you along until you’re grinding against his face. Greedily, he watches you writhe while loudly whining his name again and again, the sound driving him wild.

As his tongue focuses pressure on your clit you peak, releasing your second orgasm to cascade down through you. He removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue lapping at your sweetness until you relax against the mattress. He stands to admire you, face glistening from your arousal.  _ God, you love him.  _ Glancing down his towering figure, you find his bulge still straining inside those jeans.

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle softly.

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve cum twice and your pants aren’t even off,” you say, waving your hand in mock disgust.

A wicked smile creeps across his face. “Oh its torture amor, but you are worth it.”

“Don’t wait anymore Javier,” you whine. “Show me what I mean to you.” You dare flash a smirk to egg him on, grabbing at your chest to ease your tender nipples.

“Fuck,” Javi stutters, quickly ridding himself of his pants. His hard cock throbs out in all its glory, slick with pre-cum. 

He puts himself between your legs, teasing you by gliding his cock through your folds before lining up at your entrance. He watches you as he slides himself in, grunting with immense pleasure, memorizing the look on your face. As his hips fully press against yours, he closes his eyes and winces. After so much neglect your wet warmth is almost too much to handle all at once. 

But you need him to move, clenching around his shaft, feeling deliciously full. He sucks his teeth and shoots you a pained look. You beckon him to lean closer, licking your lips when he complies and lowers himself down.

Capturing him in a kiss, you roll your hips in motivation, begging him to move. He finally gives in and your fingers dig into his neck. After a slow build he begins to thrust chaotically, the passion overtaking him as he tightens his grip on your waist. Your hands fling to his shoulders, clinging for support. 

He tears away to flip you over onto your stomach. You’re barely apart before he’s pulling your body up to press your back into his torso and sliding back into you aggressively. Your choked moans go straight to his cock, turning his thrusts brutal. He presses his face to your ear, hot ragged breath tingling your skin. “I’m sorry, amor. I’m so close already. Cum again for me.” He tries to stabilize his breathing by clenching his teeth, the sensation on your neck driving you wild. He clasps a rough hand to your breast, pinching your nipple as his other finds your clit. 

_ Fuck he’s good.  _ It’s almost too much to take as you quickly feel the promise of a third orgasm. Flinging your head back in anticipation, Javi bites down on your open neck. With a loud gasp, you scream out his name, succumbing to the pleasure and cumming hard on his cock. Your swift release prompts his own and he explodes into you, panting profanity into your shoulder. Leaning against each other, you slowly come down from your tandem high. Eventually, the frantic breathing subsides and Javi plants a kiss to your shoulder, keeping his tight hold on your waist. 

Ruined, you run your fingers through your hair and try to excuse yourself to the bathroom. He’s reluctant to let you go, not ready to lose your warmth. You give him a reassuring kiss and his arms loosen, allowing you to dart away and close the door behind you. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you assess the damage. You’re decked in blue spots and red marks. Your hair is greasy. Your makeup is smeared. But you can’t help but smile, feeling absolutely beautiful. 

You clean your body up and wet a washcloth for Javi. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror, your stomach pains with a familiar memory. The last time you thought he was all-in you returned to find him ready to leave. Suddenly preparing for the worst, you finally leave the bathroom with cautious steps, desperately hoping it’s different this time.

Entering the bedroom your anxiety falters, relieved to see Javi still there, naked and relaxed. He’s smoking and waiting for you by the edge of the bed. He had grabbed his cigs out of his pants and tidied the strewn clothes into a pile. He smiles when he sees you, his eyes genuinely filled with affection. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You don’t know what to do. Usually this is the part when Javi pulls away, but here he is, still here with no plans to go. You hand him the washcloth and he puts out his cigarette. 

As you lay down on the bed, you turn away so he can’t see the pleased shock on your face.  _ Does he really love you? Is he finally staying? _ He tosses the cloth on his dirty clothes and rolls over to press himself to your back, draping his arm around you. You intertwine your fingers with his hanging hand, keeping him close.

Neither of you say anything as you lie in a comfortable silence. His embrace while unfamiliar feels effortless and safe. You can’t quite let yourself fully accept his affection yet but you allow yourself to enjoy it for tonight. Figuring out your relationship will be a problem for the morning. Nuzzling more into him, you rest, slowly succumbing to sleep

**~~**

Taking a deep breath, your eyes slowly open as you wake up on your side, light creeping into the room from the edges of the shades. Quietly grunting, you slightly stretch your aching joints, adjusting your position on the bed. A body rolls and presses itself to your back and a strong hand falls over your hip.  _ Javier _ . You had almost forgotten he stayed over, but the memories of your night return when he nuzzles his nose into your neck, the hairs of his moustache tickling your skin. “Good morning,” you say, reaching your arm back to tousle his hair.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder before laying his head on it. “Good morning.” He squeezes you closer to him and you wiggle your ass into his impressive morning hardness, knowing he appreciates it when you feel the sharp exhales of air from his nose. Snaking his hand to one of your breasts, he grips tightly and bites down on that spot on your neck, causing you to gasp out his name and buck your ass further into him. He laughs, nuzzling his face back into your neck. “You’re so perfect.”

“Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” you tease, jiggling your ass against him again.

“Have you seen yourself?” he asks, kneading his fingers into the thickness of your thigh, pressing himself into you more forcefully. “I’m making up for lost time,” he whispers while peppering kisses on your shoulder blade.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself live in the bliss of his touch, grinding against him slowly, encouraging him to continue. Your stomach, however, has other ideas and a sharp pain stills your movements while you let out a little whimper of pain. 

“Are you ok?” He stops his movements and turns your head with his hand to find your scrunched up face.

“Yeah…” you groan, letting the last pangs of pain subside. “I didn’t exactly eat dinner last night...because of  _ someone _ .” You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “I guess my body is retaliating.”

“Well that’s an easy fix. I’ll check your fridge and make us something.” He kisses your cheek before rolling over and exiting the bed, throwing on his underwear before heading to the kitchen.

You’re much slower to get up, trying to process this new side of Javi. It’s not that he hasn’t been sweet before, far from it, it’s that it feels so natural already. Even though it’s his first morning in your bed, it seems as if you’ve done this a million times. He spent months resisting this but one night and it's like there was never that tension.  _ What changed? _

Slipping on some shorts and a tank, you see Javi’s button-up out of the corner of your eye. Snatching it off the ground, you put it on, letting it hang open on top of your clothes. It still smells like smoke and cologne and you’re not sure if you’re going to let him take it back, your argument being that for as good as he looks in it, he looks twice as good without it. 

Relieved that you had enough groceries for breakfast, you can hear the sizzle in the pan as you walk down the hallway to the kitchen, “What did you find?” you ask, heading to the cabinet to grab a glass for water.

“You had a bit of bacon and some eggs. And lucky for you that’s about all I can make,” he jokes. Looking over his shoulder, he smiles. “Babe, what are you wearing?”

Flexing your eyebrows quickly, you spin around for him. “Oh this? I think it’s mine now,” you tease playfully before sauntering over to the kitchen table, making sure to accentuate the swing in your hips.

“I always knew you’d be more beautiful in the morning,” he says before turning back to pay attention to the eggs.

While the line melts your heart, his choice of words is off-putting. He  _ always knew _ which means he had thought about spending the night before. But he had always resisted doing it,  _ what’s changed? _ Shuffling your feet under your chair, you bite your lip and muster up some courage. “So, Javi I---“ 

He cuts you off, dropping the spatula on the counter before rushing over to you. “I’m an idiot. Forgive me. I love you.” He cups your face and kisses you deeply, the pressure in his lips momentarily making you forget your name.

Regaining consciousness, you pull back and chastise him for leaving the food unattended. “ _ Javi _ , the eggs!” He scrambles back to the stove and turns off the heat. He’s quick to split the food among the plates and brings them over the table, dragging a chair to sit right next to you.

He takes one of your hands in his and you can feel his eyes soften when you meet his gaze. “Right, I guess I have a lot to explain.” Nodding, you smile softly, egging him to continue. He huffs out one deep breath before a it all falls out of his mouth. “I’ve seen so many bad things happen to people close to me. Escobar knows everything, everyone. I know firsthand what he can do. I can’t put you in that danger. I won’t do it.“

“But seeing Steve without Connie…I can’t lose you. I love you. I had myself convinced that it was better for you to be around me but not with me. I could at least still keep you safe. But fuck, Connie leaving made me wake up. I’m an idiot. But, I’m and idiot that loves you. If you’ll still have me.”

Taking a few moments to consider what he’s said you reply, “Javi, you’re such a bastard. I’m not exactly defenseless here. I have a say in it too.” He hangs his head knowing you’re right. You cup his cheek with your hand and raise his face so he looks at you. “You’re lucky I’m too dumb to leave your grumpy ass.”

“I love you,” he half whispers while his perfect brown eyes stare into yours, leaning into your hand.

“I love you too,” you say softly, letting the words hang in the air for a while. Shaking out of your daze, you drop your hand to speak more sternly. “But if we’re doing this, you’re going to have to get better at talking to me. I have to know what’s going on.”

“Amor, you might not like what you hear,” he admits, a familiar twinge of fear flashes across his face.

“Peña, I can’t be the first person to tell you big risks, bigger rewards,” you tease while rubbing his thighs, slowly moving your hand higher up it. He cocks an eyebrow when you start leaning yourself closer to him, aiming your lips for his. Catching the hint, he meets you halfway to join you in a kiss that quickly turns heated.

“You need to eat,” he says, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want your stomach interrupting again.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh but agree, eating up so that you can enjoy the certified snacc sitting next to you sooner. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Javi grow more comfortable with each other now that they both have accepted what their relationship is.

Your heart is so full. You couldn’t have imagined how sweet life could be when Javi finally let his guard down. The man wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s finally allowing himself to express it, to your avid appreciation.

With the dust settled, Javier has truly made your apartment his home. Long gone are the days when he was afraid to keep your house key on him, instead he checks that he has yours before his own, knowing where he’d rather spend the night. His belongings are strewn across your place from him randomly bringing something over to show you and never remembering to put it back. His whiskey and record collections have somehow made their way into yours and you’d be lying if you didn’t purposely hide one of his jackets in the back of your closet for when he’s gone. There are remnants of him in every room, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

For as busy as he is, he seems to always be around. In the office, at home, out for lunch, it doesn’t matter. If Javi is in Bogotá he will find a way to see you. And if he just missed you, schedules conflicting, there might be a coffee or pastry waiting for you on your desk, or a voicemail that makes you smile left on your machine.

It came as a surprise to find out how easily Javier fit himself into your life. You were so used to him disappearing without a word that you had come to accept that you had to wait for him to come to you. But now, you have all his numbers, you have a key to his place. If you need to contact him he’s responding as fast as he can. He’s completely opened himself to you and you’re at peace knowing that the road to access him is finally fully paved. He’s still a grumpy bastard though and you occasionally have to dig for the details on his moods from day to day, but he’s always there, looking for you to help him through another day.

It took awhile for Williams to come around, understandably so, but the tension has eased and he no longer glares over his shoulder when Javi comes into your office. Given how you went against all your better judgement to let Javi back in, you were patient with Williams’ skepticism, letting him slowly come around to the fact that things are different and you are indeed happy. As predicted though, Williams now asks about a double date almost weekly, and you’re starting to run out of excuses. There’s only so many times you can say that Javi is out of town for him to believe it.

Javi doesn’t always make it home before bed, his schedule is so varied you could never expect anything consistent from him. It’s not unusual to wake up and find him next to you after he slips in at some ungodly hour. On those nights, you curl into him, breasts cool against his back, feeling him breathe peacefully while you ease back into sleep. Knowing he’ll always come back to you is what allows you to fall asleep without him in the first place.

You never needed him around all the time, you just needed to know that you are his and he is yours. Javier is a good man, despite what he himself may think, and you trust him at his word. There’s no need for jealousy with the security of your relationship, the emotion a thing of the past. Both of you have irregular jobs with irregular patterns and know that unideal things have to get done. You understand that Javier needs to sleep with informants and he understands that you have to flirt with officials at galas in order to prevent diplomatic meltdowns. At the end of it all, you both know in whose arms you’d rather be.

Of course that doesn’t mean you don’t push his buttons from time to time to rile him up into reminding why you’re with him...the man is something else when he’s a little jealous.

It doesn’t feel like forever when he’s gone now. While the hunt for Escobar has him constantly leaving Bogotá, Javier isn’t completely disappearing. He calls at random hours to check in and lets you ramble about your day, allowing him to forget about the horrors of his. Sometimes he just needs to hear your voice as a reminder that you’re alive and you love him. But other times, you’re using that sweet voice to coax the cum out of his cock, you yourself dripping on the other side of the line, giving him a good reason to return as quickly as possible. And whenever he comes home, he definitely makes sure you know how badly he missed you.

Fuck, _the sex_. There is no doubt in your mind that Javier loves you when he’s got his hands on you. The passion never leaves his eyes anymore, sometimes staying so lost in you that he’s ready for another round before you even part. If it was good before, it’s fucking amazing now, both knowing exactly what to do to push each other over.

For every corner of the apartment he hadn’t already taken you in, he’s made it his mission to christen every surface. The most daring time being when he ate you out while you leaned on the low windowsill with the blind up in the living room, trying your hardest not to cry out with his face dug into your ass.

His new favorite spot however, is the shower. He always left before you had the chance to share one and now he regrets every one he has to take without you. The feel of your hand, your mouth, your cunt on his cock while the water runs down him is what keeps him going through the day, the thought of it alone makes him hard.

Some days the man bursts through the door, hungry for you. He comes home in every mood at every hour to find you there, willing to give him what he needs. You know he uses your body as a release but the bastard always repays his debts. God help your pussy when he comes home before you do, the waiting makes him want you more.

And he finally got his payback for when you tied him up all those months ago, did you really think he’d let that go with as much as you run your mouth? He, of course, was relentless, edging you until your begs for his cock were too much for even him to bear. The restraints he had commissioned with the words _doll_ embroidered into them were a nice touch, you expected nothing less from the dramatic bastard.

You’re happy. You’re really fucking happy. And a part of you wonders how long this is going to last.

**~~**

Lounging on the couch on a lazy afternoon, you and Javier are watching a telenovela. Well, more so that the movie you were watching ended and neither of you moved when it came on after. The episode is filled with drama, of course, but you’re surprised when Javi starts rubbing his neck while a wedding plays out on screen.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask, genuinely confused at his sudden change in mood.

“Hmm?” he responds. He was too in his head to hear your question.

“You rub your neck when you’re stressed. What’s wrong?” 

“There’s uh…something I never told you,” he admits, dropping his arm to his side.

“Ok, well I’m listening,” you assure him, adjusting yourself so you face him.

He stalls before answering, studying your face before speaking. “I was engaged. I almost got married.” He nervously gulps, searching your eyes for a sign of judgment. 

“Oh? What happened?” you ask calmly, trying to mask the surprise in your voice. The fact that anyone has previously tied him down that tightly genuinely shocks you.

He sheepishly avoids your eye contact. He can’t bear to see your reaction. “I…I left her at the altar.”

“Hmmm” you chuckle, caught off guard, “That does sound like you.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks defensively, his brow furrowing. 

“Well Javi, you’re not exactly straight-forward with your feelings are you,” you tease, dancing your fingers on his legs, “And you have a pretty major avoidance complex.” His body tenses and he leans away from you, hurt by your words. Immediately regretting your reaction, you reach out for his hand. “How long ago was this?”

“A while,” he huffs, allowing you to touch him, “I was young, so stupid. She didn’t deserve it. I’ve never forgiven myself.” 

A pit grows in your stomach watching his face flash with scorn. Teasing him shouldn’t have been your first instinct.

“Javi,” you sigh, pulling his head into your lap so you can stroke his hair. “You really have to stop beating yourself up, amor. You’ve made a lot of mistakes, yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed. So, you left a girl at the altar years ago, that doesn’t mean you’re the same man today. It doesn’t mean you’ll repeat what you did or have to pay for it forever. It sounds like you’ve already been paying penance in your head for a while. You’re not tainted or whatever you tell yourself. You’re fine, amor.” 

You didn’t intend for a speech but the words kept coming as your heart ached at his distress. He’s in your lap now, where he goddamn belongs, who cares what it took to get here.

Silently, he nuzzles his head further into your thighs and shifts his body to rest more comfortably on the couch, his hand hangs down to caress your leg. His touch is his thanks and you smile, continuing to play with his mop of brown hair. There is an easy silence that fills the room as you finish the novela, neither of you feeling the need to break it.

As the credits roll, Javi pops up suddenly catching your gaze. “ _Amor_ , huh?” he says with a smirk. 

_The bastard._ You have it bad for him and he knows it. While he calls you by a few pet names on the regular, you really haven’t reciprocated. But with his reaction, you might start using them more. Shooting him a fake annoyed look you grit, “Shut up.”

Leaning over slowly, he hovers just above your lips. “I like it,” he growls with that low voice he knows drives you crazy. You roll your eyes, knowing full well he’s got you where he wants you. He smiles as he dives into your lips, tenderly kissing his amor. 

**~~**

You finally caved. Williams has been bugging you non-stop about a double date and dammit he broke you. You accepted after a particularly stressful day and came home to begrudgingly tell Javier about your Saturday night plans. Neither of you were thrilled, Javi still being very wary of taking you to public places and you realizing that accepting would make Williams believe this could be a regular thing, but if you wanted to keep getting invited over for Luz’s cooking, you were going to have to accept eventually. 

It doesn’t occur to you until you’re getting ready but this is kind of you and Javi’s first official night out together. Ditching your original plan, you dive into your closet to find something that might make the night more memorable. You pull out that dress you haven’t dared wear since you bought it, the red one that’s just too short and plunges just a little too low. 

Even though it looks absolutely amazing, you’ve always been cautious to go out in it because you weren’t sure what type of attention you’d get. But with Javi by your side, you’d doubt he’d be able to keep his hands off you, let alone allow anyone to get near you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the armchair glancing at his watch when you step into the living room. Lifting his head up, his jaw drops open, eyes glued to your figure. Giggling at his reaction, you turn your head slightly, bending your knee just so. “You like?” you ask, damn well already knowing the answer.

“Babe,” he gawks, dragging his hand down his chin. “Do we have to go?” 

“We promised,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

He crosses the room and grabs your hand, nudging you to spin for him. “I know but…goddamn woman.”

“We have to go,” you say unconvincingly as he pulls you into his arms.

“Are you sure?” Digging his nose into your neck, his hands slowly finding their way to your curves.

“Javi!” you scold, playfully swatting his hands away. Turning around you grip his collar, resting your forearms on his chest. “You know even if we cancel, we’ll still have to do this again”

“Fine,” he scoffs before leaning in to kiss you. “But wear this more often,” he adds with a swift smack of your ass.

Dinner is nice, you expected no less. Williams and Luz are a lovely couple. They’re very easygoing and it’s not hard to keep the conversation going, especially with Luz stopping Williams from going overboard. You’ve explained to Javi many times that you love Williams, you really do, he’s basically family, but you can only handle so much in a day. There comes a point when Williams is too eager to lock things down and tries to plan other people’s lives out alongside his. Williams is destined to be a suburban Dad and if you’re not careful, when the time comes he’s going to try to rope you into a split vacation timeshare or some shit. 

Against Williams’ homebody nature, he convinces the group to head to a bar for after dinner drinks. Sitting at the table with the first round, you and Luz are chatting while the boys are at the bar, already waiting for seconds. “How are things at work with all the changes?” Luz asks cheerfully.

“I’m still getting used to Crosby,” you grunt before aggressively shooting back a tequila shot.

While you haven’t really expressed your frustration openly, you really are bummed that Noonan was replaced. You and her had built up quite the concrete system and it made her office as efficient as possible. It sucks to have to start over with a new boss, especially with one that doesn’t seem to respect you in the same manner.

On her way out, she offered you a chance to follow her and transfer but you couldn’t accept. Your time in Colombia isn’t done yet. She understood but left you a way of contacting her if you ever find yourself in need of a job. At least you have that in your back pocket, if Crosby continues to be as insufferable as he’s been so far.

“Ben finds him nice,” she says defensively, staring down into her drink. Her usually cheery face squishes into a nervous grimace.

Realizing you killed her attempt at conversation, you lighten your tone, hoping you didn’t put her off completely. “He is nice. It’s just different from before.”

She nods her head in the direction of the bar and changes the subject. “Hey, what do you think they’re talking about?”

Looking over your shoulder, you can see Williams gesturing vigorously and Javi stone-faced, listening intently with his hands jammed in his pockets. Of course you can’t hear their words, but you can guess what they’re talking about when Williams waves in the direction of your table and Javi’s eyes lock onto yours. You watch him sigh slowly and shoot you a wink before grumbling something that Williams nods his head at. Whatever it was, there doesn’t seem to be any bad blood between the two of them.

“Knowing your boyfriend, he’s probably complaining about embassy paperwork,” you joke. Luz snorts and agrees. It is fully within Williams’ character to go on a boring tangent while drunk.

Returning to the table, Javi sits down next to you, leaning over to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear. “Todo bien, amor.” Smiling, you stroke his face with your thumb, smoothing his moustache over, and he shifts his mouth to press a kiss to it. _The bastard._ How dare he be so sweet to you, your heart can’t take it. 

Pulling you out of your daze, Williams ropes you back into conversation by asking if you’ve finished Lord of the Rings yet and you spend the next half hour arguing over plot points with Javi’s hand resting on your thigh.

Scrunching your face in confusion, you’re very surprised to see Steve and another man heading towards your table. Javi excuses himself when Steve catches his eye, rushing over before the men reach the group. Steve shoots you a polite wave before the three men huddle in the corner to talk.

"What’s that about?” Williams asks, trying hard not to stare at them.

“I don’t know. But with Steve here too, I bet that it’s important,” you say lowly, focusing in on Javi to try and guess what’s going on. Unfortunately his face is as grumpy as it normally is and you give up, turning back to try and not focus on his absence. 

It’s nearly 30 minutes later when Javi returns with the unknown man, Steve heading out the door without saying anything. He gulps when he sees the annoyed look on your face and quickly apologizes for leaving, also introducing the man you don’t recognize. “This is Colonel Carrillo, head of Search Bloc.” _Ah, so this is the famed Colonel._

Carrillo reaches his right hand out for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Señora. I’m very sorry to have taken away your date. Please accept this drink as a peace offering.” 

_Damn._ You can feel all the raw strength in his body through the power in his fist. The man has muscles that basically are popping out of his shirt. You thought Javi was the only one with too-tight clothes but Carrillo has got him beat for sure. You half hope Javi catches you quickly glancing over the Colonel’s figure. It might send his mind places that might be devastating in the best way later.

“Your reputation precedes you Colonel. Apology forgiven.” You take the drink from him and set it on the table. “But I hope we're done with work for the night,” you add sternly, darting your eyes between the two men like you’re their school teacher.

"Peña is. But I’m only getting back into it,” he answers with a smile.

“I will see you first thing tomorrow, before you head out,” Javi chimes in, slipping past Carrillo to plop back down into his chair. 

“I’ll need the files we were talking about,” he reminds Javi, flexing his arms in a way you can’t ignore.

“Steve knows where they are,” Javi spits back, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket.

“Colonel, sounds like you’re ready for another round at the job,” you say, lighting Javi’s cig for him when he puts it between his lips.

“I’m here to _finish_ the job,” he assures you.

“Well after you catch Escobar do you think you can pull Javi’s head out of his ass?” you joke flatly. The look on Javi’s face is priceless. 

Chuckling, Carrillo responds, “With all due respect, I think that’s impossible.” Ending on a high note, he takes his exit and leaves the bar. 

Soon after, a large yawn from Williams signals that it’s finally time for the group night to end. Finally out in the fresh air, Luz clings to you tightly as Javi helps a little-too-tipsy Williams into their car. She blushes when you thank her again for all the times she cooked for you when you were at your lowest and tries to deflect the compliments. Her sheepish smile delights you and you make a note to kill Williams if he ever breaks this precious dove’s pure heart. As Luz starts the ignition, Javi sneaks his arm around your waist and begins walking you to his car.

As expected, Javi can’t keep his hand off you on the ride home. In the already short dress, almost all of your thighs are exposed when the fabric runs up from sitting in the passenger seat. His fingers travel while he tells you how beautiful you are, how much you need to wear this dress again, how lucky he is. It takes everything to not have him pull over and take you in the backseat, he’s had you dripping for hours but this sweet attention is making your desire unbearable.

The door to your apartment is barely closed when he thrusts you back against it, his hand pressing into you from your thigh up to your chin before he pulls you into a deep kiss. As things get more heated, he locks his hands on your waist pushing himself against you, letting you feel how hard he already is. A wanton whine escapes you, his mouth trailing from your lips to your neck, making sure every bit of skin is appreciated.

Moving down to the exposed flesh of your breasts, he starts to bite in between kisses, leaving little bruises all over. A wicked idea pops in your head when he focuses in on one spot, determined to suck a mark. “So that Carrillo…”

“What about him?” he grumbles against your skin, traveling back up to your neck, not stopping his mouth’s assault.

“He’s hot,” you moan. You didn’t intend for the sound but Javi chose that exact moment to bite down on _that_ spot on your neck.

"What?” He pulls back quickly, raising an eyebrow, very much confused at how this is playing out.

“What? Sometimes a girl wants a big strong man…” Reaching out to undo the buttons on his shirt, you lay the sarcasm on very thick so that he doesn’t think you actually want to talk about Carrillo.

"Babe…” he growls, eyes narrowing as he shakes his head. He knows what you’re trying to get him to do, the only times you mention anyone else is when you want him to restrain you. He’ll do it but it wasn’t how he imagined fucking you tonight. He wants to worship you in that dress, not punish you. You’re so damn frustrating.

“You can just tell he knows how to use his power…” You pull open his shirt, dancing your fingers across the slightly sweaty skin. “…how to use his hands…” Sliding your hand down his chest and stomach, you land on his bulge, rubbing lightly before pulling on his belt loops. “…how to really please a—” Javi’s lips cut you off, stopping your mouth with his. 

Pushing you back against the door again, Javi drives his knee in between your legs to part them. He snakes a hand up your body, digging into your skin before wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place as he slips his tongue to yours. He breaks away, adding pressure to the hand gripping you. “No more talking from you,” he growls, his eyes intensely focusing on yours. 

You raise an eyebrow, nodding to signal that you approve of his change in tone. He jerks his head toward your bedroom, releasing you from his grasp. When you turn to follow orders a hard smack hits your ass, followed by a hand rubbing and squeezing at the stinging flesh. 

Crossing the threshold into the room, you’re pulled back against him while he roughly grabs everything in reach. Sliding your dress off you, he grunts seeing the lingerie you had specially picked out to match the dress. Calloused hands drag over the soft fabric, kneading the flesh underneath while you undo his zipper, desperate to taste what’s been teasing you.

Dropping to your knees, you pull his pants all the way down, helping him step out and tossing them aside before gingerly wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock. You watch him shudder as you hold eye contact, taking him into your mouth, lightly dragging your tongue along the bottom. Bobbing your head, you increase your pace, taking in more of him each time.

Popping him out of your mouth, you stroke him with your hand while leaving wet kisses from the crest of his thigh up to his neck, making sure to appreciate every patch of skin. Reaching his ear, you tug on the lobe with your teeth before whispering, “Do you know where I can find a big, strong man to fuck me?”

He stills the hand that’s stroking him and captures your lips in his, making sure to bite down on your lower one. “I thought I told you to stop talking,” he chides, his voice sinfully deep. Leading you over to the side table, he pulls out the rope he had bought alongside the embroidered cuffs and ties your hands together over your stomach. “Too tight?” he asks when he finishes the knot.

When you shake your head no, he brings you toward the bed, instructing you to lean on your elbows and forearms with your ass in the air. You yelp and wiggle your ass for him when a sharp smack hits your bottom, leaving a lasting sting. Kissing and biting the soft skin just above your panty line, Javier slowly pulls down the thin fabric until it’s off, tossing it aimlessly on the floor.

Dragging his moustache along your thighs and ass, he makes his way to your glistening entrance, eagerly awaiting the taste. The thick slow stripe he licks through your folds has you gasping at first impact and motivates him to explore more so you’ll keep making those sounds. Alternating between focusing on your clit and entering his tongue into you, he quickly rises the heat inside you. But when he feels your legs start to tremble, he pulls away. You whine but you already knew it was coming, you basically begged him for it. 

He repeats the process again and again, riling up with his tongue, pleasuring every spot from your clit to your asshole, but ultimately denying you the release you need. You hungrily cry out his name, pleading for him to let you cum when you can’t take it anymore. 

Giving in, he sits up on his knees and rests an elbow on your ass before sliding two slick-coated fingers into you, curling to the perfect spot within you. Increasing his pace, his other hand slicks under to press slow circles onto your clit with his thumb. It only takes a few seconds of the added pressure before you peak, writhing on his fingers as you ride out your high. When you sigh into the mattress and let your shoulders drop, Javi plants a kiss on your ass before lining up his hardness at your opening.

He sinks his cock into your cunt agonizingly slow, torturing you while you’re still so sensitive from your orgasm. When he bottoms out, he pulls back out to the tip just as slow before slamming his hips against yours, repeating the process to devastating results. Digging his nails into the thickness of your thighs, he holds you steady as his pace increases, thrusting with immense force. You’re a babbling mess, a mix of moans and his name leaving your mouth as you try to hold onto your sanity. 

“Fuck baby, I love it when you say my name.” Groaning, he stills to help you flip over, pulling your legs up to his shoulders before dipping himself back into you. The sight of him is driving you mad, you wish hadn’t decided to be such a tease tonight, you need to touch him. Your eyes are transfixed on him as he kisses your legs while pounding into you, his moustache dragging all along your skin. It’s almost too much to bear, you need to feel more of him.

Whimpering with your tied hands stretched out towards him, you plead, “Javi, I’m sorry. I just want to touch you.” His face softens as he slows his pace significantly. Lowering your legs to fit around his waist, he leans over and unties your hands, still rolling his cock into you. Tossing the rope away, he kisses your wrists before releasing them from his grip.

Wasting no time, you tighten your thighs around him and pull him towards you until he has to push into the bed for support. Cupping his face, you capture his lips in a needy kiss, moaning when his tongue touches yours. 

The sex has changed now. Instead of the dominant fucking that it started out as, it now feels deeply intimate. Your hunger for him is never satisfied, snaking your fingers in his hair, raking your nails down his back, roughly grabbing at his muscles, you try so hard to feel every part of him without leaving the comfort of his kiss.

Suddenly feeling you everywhere, Javi is trying his best to savor each touch before he explodes. As much as he wants to indulge you in your teasing, he prefers to be drowning in you, feeling you everywhere without restraint. His brain goes blank when he’s kissing you, the wet in his mouth and on his dick preventing him to think of nothing but you. He doesn’t feel in control, his body mindlessly reacting to how you make him feel.

His thrusts are immaculate. Each time his hips crash into yours you gasp, feeling his cock reach the same amazing spot again and again. Wrapping your legs even tighter, your cunt throbs around him, leading you to another high. Javier’s lips still against yours and you can hear his ragged breaths through his clenched teeth, he’s close too. Digging your nails into his back, you roll your hips forcefully until you cum, your release sending him over the edge as well.

Javi kisses your stomach and breasts while you recover, panting underneath him and running your fingers through his hair. Once your breathing evens out, he presses a kiss to your forehead and stares down at you, those haunting eyes filled with emotion.

“I love how you get when I rile you up,” you tease, tapping his nose with your finger. 

“Fuck you,” he laughs before leaning in for a slow, deep kiss that you can feel in your cunt, which pulses quickly around the softening cock still inside you. Javi’s breath skips and you can feel his stomach muscles constrict as his body tenses at the sensation. He reluctantly pulls out and helps you off the bed so you can clean up in the bathroom.

Back on the bed, you’re laying on Javi’s chest, aimlessly drawing lines on his skin when you ask, “You know I didn’t mean it right? What I said about Carrillo?”

He chuckles, “I know, amor. I knew what you were doing.”

“I couldn’t even keep it up the whole time,” you sigh, resting your hand on his shoulder. “You fuck me too good, you bastard,” you add, nudging his side with your knee.

“Well I’m not going to apologize for that,” he teases, pulling your chin up to kiss you.

“I love you,” you whisper, gazing into those dreamy brown eyes.

“I love you too,” he says almost breathlessly, his smile melting your heart. “Please wear that dress again,” he whispers when you relax back into him.

“Anything for you, Javi,” you reply softly, drifting off to sleep. His arm wraps around your back, securing you to him, as he gives your hair a kiss before falling asleep himself.

**~~**

You’re reading on the couch when Javier comes home. While you greet him with a smile, he huffs out a big sigh before taking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen for a beer. Brow furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

He plops down next to you and kisses your cheek. “You look beautiful today.” 

“ _Javier_ ,” you growl. The compliment is nice but he’s not getting off the hook.

He takes a swig of the drink before picking at the label on the bottle. “I’m going to be spending most of my time in Medellín for a while.”

“Oh,” you gasp, sinking back into the cushion.

“With Carrillo back…we’re really ramping up Search Bloc,” he continues, half the label on the floor now.

“That makes sense. It is the _Medellín_ Cartel,” you add, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. You know it’s his job but you can’t pretend that the news doesn’t devastate you.

“We’ll be based out of there. It’s going to be hard to come back and forth a lot,” he admits, his heart breaking when he looks over his shoulder at you.

You wait a long pause before answering. “Does that mean you don’t want to see me anymore? Because you’re going to be over there more?”

Javi’s eyes almost come out of his skull. “What? No. Is that what you want?”

After another long pause you say meekly, “No, I just…assumed.”

He puts the beer down on the coffee table and takes your hand in his. “Amor, I don’t want to disappear. I don’t want to lose you. But, if I come back and you don’t want to see me, I’ll understand.” The dejected look on his face is one you never want to see again.

“Javi, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here for you. So you better come back,” you insist, making sure to speak with confidence and look directly into his eyes.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he breathes out, his face softening before he pulls you in for a kiss.

“So Medellín…” you say, relaxing back into the couch.

“Yeah, Medellín. Things are getting heated,” he responds, adjusting to get comfy in his personal ditch.

“You’re going to get him. He can’t run forever.”

“I might have to take more risks. Things…that some people might not approve of.”

“Big risks, bigger rewards, Javi.” 

“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot to consider,” he says, massaging his palm with his thumb, averting his gaze to the wall.

“But be smart,” you remind him with a stern voice.

“When am I not?” he jokes.

“Do you want me to answer that question or…?” A smirk falls on your face as your voice trails off.

“Qué mala,” he growls before tickling your sides. When you fall back laughing, he lays on top of you, inching towards your face. Wrapping your legs around his, you lock him to you, biting your lip when his brown eyes find yours.

He’s staring at you, trying to remember every detail of your face, wondering how in the hell he’s going to manage going so long without you. He smiles when you reach up and smooth over the hairs on his moustache that were frazzled in the tousle. How he ever managed to win your love in the first place, he’ll never understand. 

“I love you,” he says, diving into your lips before giving you a chance to respond. He wants to kiss you for as long as you’ll let him so he’ll never forget the reason it’s so important he makes it home.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Javi practically moving to Medellín for the time being, reader and Javi make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is smut city. There is still plot but...the majority is smut. Enjoy :)

You’re so nervous watching Javi drive away. Your eyes follow his car until he makes a left all the way at the end of the hill. As soon as he’s out of sight, you become hyper aware that the Earth is in continuous motion and rush inside to lie down.

Flopping face-first on the bed you groan. This isn’t just a trip he’d be back from in a few days or a week. Javi is basically moving to Medellín for an indefinite amount of time. Who knows when he’d be back, if at all.

Looking around, your place seems empty from what he took with him. His clothes are out of your closet, his toothbrush is off of your sink, his cologne isn’t on your dresser. He’s still here in pieces strewn around the apartment, but you’d really have to look. The absence of him is deafening.

The frenzied kiss against the door of his car that you shared before he started the engine took your breath away. He cupped your face so tightly with his hands, not allowing you to be anywhere but on his lips. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours whispering  _ Te amo  _ before kissing you again. Everything he did screamed his love for you. But did he mean it?

You wonder if you can hold his attention for that long. Yes, Javi has been nothing but loving for the short while you’ve been together, but he hasn’t always. What if he gets to Medellín and realizes the long-distance isn’t worth it? That you’re not worth it?

Who are you to judge, but you can’t help but keep thinking about his ex-fiancée. He made a commitment to that girl and backed out at the absolute last minute, not even giving her the decency of showing his face. He could easily drop you a quick phone call to say he can’t do this; or worse, never call at all.

You hate that your mind even travels there because Javi has grown so much from his past mistakes from years ago; hell, he’s much more open and honest than he was a few months ago. But at the core of it all, he’s still that scared young man who’s too in over his own head. And you’re sitting at home waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Digging through your closet you pull out his jacket that you conveniently _lost_ the last time you cleaned the apartment. Flinging it over your shoulder, you open the drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed and grab the ashtray before heading to the living room. Putting the tray on the sill, you open the window and take a cigarette out from the pack he had left in the jacket pocket.

You feel like a sap. It’s barely been an hour since he’s left and you’re already drowning yourself in memory, like you’re already mourning your relationship before it’s been killed. Exhaling a long drag, you shake your head at your own hysterics.

The loud ring of your phone makes you jump and you quickly stamp out the bud and rush over to the corded machine. The response to your frazzled greeting makes you smile. “Already losing your mind without me?”

You roll your eyes but smile. “Javier.”

“It’s been a while.”

“It’s been  _ an hour _ .”

“Too long.” he chuckles. When you don’t respond immediately he huffs into the receiver. “Listen, I saw your face as I was driving away and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Are you ok?”

All breath leaves your lungs. Had it been that obvious? “I’ll be ok,” you lie softly.

“Amor, please tell me.”

“Javi, I’m just…” You trail off. You feel guilty for even thinking about doubting Javi. How are you supposed to tell him? He’ll feel awful that that’s where your mind goes. “Javi, I don’t know.”

“Let me pull over.” You can hear the rumble of gravel through the phone. He must be in the middle of nowhere. “What’s wrong?”

“Javi, if this is over, you have to tell me,” you blurt out, trying not to cry mid-sentence.

“What did I do to make you think this is over?” The hurt in his voice is painful to hear.

“Nothing. Nothing yet..I-”

He cuts you off. “Nothing yet? But you expect me to?”

You ramble. “I don’t know. Javi, I’m not trying to start a fight, I just love you so much. But I’m worried you don’t want this as much as I do.” 

He exhales loudly. You imagine he’s probably digging at his forehead right now. God, why did you bring it up? 

His voice is firm yet sincere when he speaks. “Amor, I'm only in Medellín. It’s not like I’m back in America. I know I’ve fucked up so much but I  _ swear _ I’m not leaving you just because of a little distance. I’m a bit tougher to get rid of than that. I love you and I’m not letting you go until you want me to.”

You're glad he can’t see your bashful smile. Maybe it was good you brought it up. He certainly knows what to say to calm your nerves. “I love you, you know.”

“I’m coming back to you,” he says sternly.

“Please.”

“I am going to make this work. I will not disappear.”

You really hope he means it. “Ok, Javi. Please don’t.”

After a short pause he groans. “I need to get moving again but I’ll call you when I get in.”

Feeling infinitely better than when the call started you let him go with sweet words, “I love you.”

“I love you. This is going to work,” he insists before hanging up.

**~~**

  
  


The phone rings while you’re spending an evening on the couch. Immediately your heart flutters, knowing exactly who it is. “Hello handsome.”

He chuckles, “Expecting someone?”

“Yeah I’ve been seeing this really hot guy lately and he was supposed to call. Guess you better get off the line so I don’t miss him.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that, would we?” he teases.

You choose to push the conversation forward. “How’s work, Javi?”

“Nothing important. Tell me about yours,” he groans.

“Javi, come on.”

“How are things with Crosby?”

You huff but move on. “Things are  _ different  _ than when Noonan was in charge. But it’s ok, I’m fine. I’m still doing my job,” you admit through gritted teeth.

“Baby, come on. Let loose.”

With his permission, you allow yourself to rant. “I fucking hate it. The smarmy son-of-a-bitch always belittles all my work. It’s as if I haven’t been running this office for 2 years already! I’m going insane!”

“The guy is an asshole.”

“Williams keeps speaking up for me because apparently that’s the only way the asshole will acknowledge my work. Sometimes I think why bother but I know the minute something goes wrong it’ll all be my fault, no matter who’s involved.”

“You deserve better,” he adds, but you barely register it, continuing to your next point.

“And the way he treats Nicole too. Ugh, she’s not worthless you know? Just because he deems secretarial work  _ lesser _ doesn’t mean it is. The amount of times I’ve apologized to her on his behalf is incredible. And don’t get me started on the comments he makes about her when he has visitors.”

“You’re a marvel,” he says with a slight laugh.

“Wha-what?” you stammer, the compliment throwing you off-course.

“You’re more upset about Nicole than you are for yourself.”

“She doesn’t deserve it. It’s ridiculous!”

“You don’t deserve it either.”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

A low groan flows through the receiver. “God, I miss you baby. I wish I could show you what you deserve.”

Your eyebrow arches. “And what is it that I deserve, Agent Peña?”

“You deserve to have every inch of you appreciated. And I want to be the one to do it.” He chuckles at the involuntary moan you let slip from your lips.

“Javier Peña, what are you getting at?”

His voice is dangerously low. “I miss you, amor. I miss having that pretty little mouth on me.”

_ Oh. It’s on.  _ “Where do you want my pretty mouth?”

You hear the belt buckle clink on the ground. “Everywhere.”

Slinking back further into the couch, you prop your legs up on the coffee table while slowly sliding your pants off, the phone trapped between your ear and your shoulder. “You can have my mouth everywhere, amor. I’ll start on your lips, then trail my tongue down your neck, down your chest. I’ll kiss you all the way down until you free that cock for me.” 

His heightened breathing is obvious. “What else, amor?”

“Fuck baby, I love your cock. I’m gonna taste every bit, drag my tongue all around, so you’re nice and ready for when I take you down my throat. I’m gonna take all of you until I can’t breathe, looking right up at you Javi while I do it, letting you know how much I love your cock in my mouth.”

“Fuck, eres perfecta,” he chokes out.

You let out a whine when you reach down to touch yourself and find your panties impossibly wet.  _ The bastard.  _ He doesn’t even have to be near to rile you up. Sliding them off as well, you rub circles on your clit. “What are you going to do to me, Javier?”

His growl is animalistic. You can hear his hand moving quickly against his own hardness. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me until I fuck you again. You’ll feel me on you no matter how long I’m away. Fuck baby, I need your tight pussy.”

“Fuck, Javi.” You enter two fingers into yourself, closing your eyes to imagine it’s him.

“You take my cock so well. Always so wet with that delcious fucking cum. Absolutely dripping for me.” He can hear the obscene sounds of your fingers wrecking your cunt through the phone. “Fuck baby are you that wet for me? Make yourself cum. Do it, do it just like I do.”

Moaning out his name, you hook your fingers into the spot inside you that’ll surely send you over the edge. His grunts on the other side of the line keep you focused on him, on how he just- “Javier!” You peak with a desperate cry of his name. He succumbs to his own wave of pleasure too with stuttered groans. 

After taking a minute to steady your breathing, you tease, “So when am I getting the real thing?”

“Soon, amor. Soon,” he promises.

“I miss you in my bed.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Come back to me, Javi.”

“Amor, I want nothing more than that.”

**~~**

Another year, another birthday. Normally you’d be excited to go out and have fun, but with Javi in Medellín and Connie in Florida, you’re left with Williams and Luz…who already have plans to visit Luz’s family for the weekend and are leaving right after work. It’s no big thing, you’ll just treat yourself to something sweet and take a long, hot shower. You don’t need a grand celebration to enjoy the day.

When you arrive at work, there are flowers on your desk from Javi that he had Nicole buy for you. The sweet note scribbled in his handwriting let’s you know that he had planned this in advance and didn’t just call last night to arrange the present. Breathing in the mesmerizing scent of the petals, you wonder how you got so lucky.

It proves to be an uneventful day. There are no big scandals to take care of, just boring paperwork and phone calls. But Williams treats you to a lunch of Luz’s delicious homemade cooking and gifts you a bag full of her special recipe cookies, warning you that it’ll be hard not to eat them all in one sitting. He wasn’t lying. It takes a lot of conscious effort not to eat one every hour before it’s time to head home.

Content and ready for a relaxing evening, your jaw drops when you open your apartment door. The room is illuminated in soft lights from lamps and candles. There’s an unmistakable smell of cologne and smoke wafting through the halls. And in the center of it all is Javi, smiling at you, looking devastatingly handsome, dressed in a tight white dress shirt and black jeans.

“Surprise,” he says, barely able to contain his excitement. “Happy Birthday.” 

You drop your bag on the floor and rush over to kiss him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck. His mouth tastes like home, his kiss more comforting than any four walls could ever be. “Javier! You’re here!”

He slides his arms around your waist and can’t help but continue to stupidly grin. “You like your present?”

“I might be fond of it, yes,” you chuckle, flattening his moustache with your thumb.

“I brought dinner too.” He gestures over to the counter where an assortment of takeout containers are lined up. “I wasn’t sure what you would want so I got your favorite dishes and figured we could split them.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you sigh. “Javi, whatever I did to deserve you, it’s not enough.”

“Believe me amor, you’ve got it all wrong.” He spins you around so your back is against his chest and leads you to the food, showing off his choices.

After you’ve had your fill he takes you to the couch, reaching around its side to grab something. “Here, I bought this for you too.” He hands you a long, thin bag with a piece of tissue paper hastily shoved in the opening. 

Smiling, you roll your eyes when you realize what it is. “Wine?  _ Javier _ how did you manage to get your wallet out to pay for this? You hate wine.”

“It was a struggle,” he jokes while pouring you a glass. “But I know you love it.”

“I do,” you answer smugly and sit back against the armrest. Playfully, you drag your leg along his before laying it across his lap. “I can get very friendly after a couple of glasses.”

His hand makes its way up your leg to grip your thigh. “I love when you do.”

“And I love  _ you _ . So it’s a win-win,” you declare with a wink.

As expected you barely make it through three glasses of wine before you’re straddling him, entangled in a kiss while a record plays in the background. You missed him so much. The real thing is better than your memory could ever be. Raking your fingers through his hair, over his cheek, down his shoulders, you try to touch every bit of him you’ve been dreaming about since you last had your hands on him. 

“And to think my plans for the night were just take a shower and eat some cookies,” you say, pulling away to catch your breath.

“We can still do that baby, if you want,” he offers, hands continuing to roam your body.

Laughing, you tease, “You just want to get me wet, Javier.”

“That’s all I ever want, amor,” he answers earnestly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “But you did mention it and it is your birthday...so why don’t we make it happen?” 

You don’t need any more convincing. Sliding off, you take his hand and lead him to your bathroom. In between neck kisses and ragged breaths, you find the time to strip each other while the hot water begins to steam up the room. 

You groan when the water first hits your skin, the sting of the heat relaxing your muscles. Even better is the feeling of Javi peppering kisses to your back with his hardness resting against your ass. By way of your thigh, his finger finds its way into your slick folds, gently teasing your clit before pumping slowly into your entrance.

Moaning, you fling your head back on his shoulder. It’s been too long. You already need more. You’re rushing things but you can’t take it anymore. You need him inside now. And you’re allowed to make demands on your birthday. “Fuck me  _ now _ , Javi.”

His finger leaves you, gathering slick from your folds to coat his cock. You bend over and prop yourself against the wall, angling your ass up for better access. You let out a wanton sigh as he carefully enters you, the slow stretch is all-consuming as he allows your cunt to adjust to him until he’s fully in. 

_ This cock _ . His steady movements are perfect, sliding himself from tip to base. He grabs at your curves, fingers relentless in their grip. Using the wall for support, you roll your hips back into him, helping him reach that perfect spot within you. His increasing pace has you whimpering, his name repeatedly falling from your lips. The sounds egg him on and he pulls you to his chest, pounding more brutally, the water stream now landing on your chest. 

A Big calloused hand digs into your breast, helping him hold you still against his hard thrusts. His other snakes down your body and finds your clit. Turning your head, you attempt to kiss him but only manage to whimper into his mouth because he starts roughly tapping the bundle of nerves each time his cock rocks into you.

Slowing his pace, he aims himself to hit at the most amazing angle, choosing to pity your clit and rub steady circles against it as well. His moustache drags along your neck and you explode, your cunt locking his cock in a vice-like grip to release on. You’re delirious as you whine his name, his fingers and the constant pressure of the water keeping you in the most blissful high.

Another scream of his name from your overstimulation sends him over the edge. Biting your shoulder, he groans while cumming inside you, digging his teeth in deeper with each spurt of release. His arms fall limp and hang against your waist while he tries to stabilize his breathing. “A shower was a good idea baby,” he says with his head against your back. 

You agree and turn off the water, nudging him to step out of the shower so you can begin the process of drying off. He begrudgingly releases you from his grasp. You take your time and come out to find him laying on your bed with a stupid smirk on his face. “What?”

“Your birthday isn’t over, amor. Come sit on my face.”

_ Oh Fuck _ . If Javier isn’t careful, you won’t let him go back to Medellín. He licks his lips as you saunter over to him, eyeing the sway of your hips when you drop your towel. Lowering yourself onto his stupid handsome, you roll your eyes when you see him wink at you.  _ The smug bastard _ . But, you quickly pay for the action. Javi’s mouth dives into your pussy without warning, causing you to moan loudly, the feeling catching you off guard.

He chuckles but doesn’t pull away, dragging his hot,wet tongue through your folds. His holds you to him as you start to grind. You’re surely coating his nose and stache in arousal from how bad he has you dripping. Looking down, you groan, knowing from the heat in his eye that he’s not stopping soon.

Licking and lapping at you, he takes his time building you up to the point of release before giving you a moment to collect yourself. It’s the most pleasurable torture. When he finally lets you cum, your thighs clamp around him, keeping his tongue on your clit while you ride out each wave.

He holds you still when you attempt to swing your leg over and move. “Come on baby, keep going. I know I can give you another one.”  _ Fuck _ . He’s really going to kill you. 

Sinking his tongue back into your folds, he convinces you to stay easily. He gingerly rubs a circle on your asshole with his slick coated finger, slowly applying more pressure until you relax enough to let him slide it in.  _ Fuck _ . Your whimpers encourage him more and he quickly finds a way to add a second finger. The mixture of him lapping at your entrance and hooking his fingers in your ass brings your right back to the brink. But it’s when he sucks hard on your clit that you’re momentarily blinded, whining unintelligibly as you quickly release again. 

“Fuck, Javier,” you pant while you come back to reality.

“Your pussy is so fucking delicious.” He smacks your ass, soothing the skin afterwards.

Looking over your shoulder you can see exactly what eating you out did to Javi as his cock throbs at attention, tip glistening. You shimmy yourself down his body and grip his hardness in your hand. “Babe, can I fuck you again?” The low guttural growl of yes he manages could have made you cum right there again. 

Incredibly sensitive from your orgasms, you feel so full just from him sliding in. Leaning forward you lay your forehead to his, sharing each other’s air while you start to grind. With the slow roll of your hips and his arms gripping you to keep you close, you languidly build up a warmth, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside. Your breath starts to hitch as he brings a finger to your clit, rubbing steady circles in time with your movements.

You capture your lips in his, kissing him until you’re at your peak. You bite down on his lower lip, whimpering as you cum again, hyper aware of every clench around his cock. He follows suit and bites your lip when you release his, thrusting into you a few times before spilling into you with an elongated grunt.

“I love you,” you coo into his lips, making sure to nuzzle your nose against his.

“Te amo, amor,” he whispers back, guiding his tongue to yours, languidly kissing until he’s soft inside you, elongating the intimacy for as long as you can.

When you’re all cleaned up, you sneak to the kitchen and grab two of Luz’s cookies for a post-coital snack. Returning to the bedroom, you find Javi lighting his last cigarette of the day. He takes the cookie, nonetheless, and agrees that it’s too addicting for its own good.

"So how long do I have you until?” you ask, rubbing his leg when you sit down next to him on the bed.

“The afternoon, unfortunately,” he admits, aiming his smoke away from you.

Your face falls to the floor. “Oh, It’s a long way to come for just a night.”

He tilts your chin so you’ll look at him. “Was this really just a night, amor?”

You can’t help but melt at the sincerity in his eyes. “No. I’m just being greedy. I miss you.” You lower yourself into the sheets and snuggle into his side. 

“I miss you too.” He smiles to himself as he takes a long drag. “And for the record I would come all this way for just a night,” he adds, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray.

You reach up and give him a long, tender kiss before burying your face in his chest. “Thank you for tonight.”

He caresses the back of your head as he closes his eyes, drifting off. “Feliz cumpleaños, amor.”

**~~**

It’s late when the phone rings but you jolt awake. There’s only one reason why you would be getting a call at this hour, and you hope to God it’s his voice and not someone else’s on the other side. You answer the phone, almost out of breath, “Hello?”

“Amor.” His voice is soft and he lets out a sigh of relief after hearing your voice.

“Javi,” you drawl, thankful to recognize the distinct grumble. Your stomach turns when he lets the silence hang between you, sending your mind into worry. “Javi, what’s wrong?”

“We crossed a line.” He speaks too low and stern for your liking.

“Javi, what happened?” you ask more pointedly.

“It wasn’t me. But, I didn’t stop it. He was just a boy,” he rambles.

The slight quiver in his voice breaks your heart into pieces. You try to hide the fear in your voice. “Javier, are you safe?”

“I’m okay, amor. Can you just talk to me?” he begs weakly.

Taking a deep breath, you reassure him softly, “Yeah…yeah babe.” You can’t think of anything interesting to distract him with so you just say, “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” he whispers.

“I pretend you’re here sometimes, when I get too lonely,” you admit, hoping to cheer him up.

“How do you manage that?” His slight chuckle convinces you to continue confessing your shameless behavior.

“I put on that record you like and drink a glass of whiskey, just like you would.”

“Oh yeah?” 

"Yeah. And I don’t know if you know this, but I stole one of your jackets and I put it on too. You should see me, dancing around in your jacket. I’m a real fool for you Javier.”

“I love you.” The declaration catches you off guard with how forcefully he says the words.

“I love you too, Peña,” you coo, suddenly feeling the absence of him in your bed.

He changes the subject. “How’s work?”

“Ugh, it’s fine. Crosby is Crosby. I am still working my ass off but apparently it doesn’t matter. Suddenly Williams’ opinion is the only one that matters now when Crosby needs a follow up.”

“I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

“It’s less about what I deserve and more about the reality. I’m just always going to have to prove my worth over and over again. But good news is I haven’t failed yet.”

“You deserve better,” he repeats softly. You aren’t sure whether or not you were meant to hear him.

“Are you ok?” you ask hesitantly.

He exhales roughly, sounding defeated. “Yeah, I’m going to be alright. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“Javier, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I know I can baby, but you don’t need to carry this with me. Go back to sleep. It’ll be ok.”

“Please be smart. Please come home to me,” you plead, hoping he takes your words to heart.

“I will amor, I will.” he promises before hanging up the receiver.

**~~**

It’s a little after 8 when the phone rings. You quickly shut off the water from doing the dishes and rush over to answer it. Lately Javi has taken to calling you from a payphone when he takes a stress walk after dinner. And if you miss it now, you’ll have to wait until he makes it back to Search Bloc, which depending on his mood could take hours.

“Hey babe,” you answer cheerfully, hoping he’s had a good day.

“What are you doing?” he asks shortly, throwing you off guard. It’s very unlike him to start a conversation this coldly.

“I’m just washing the dishes…” you respond hesitantly. “Why?”

“I’m at the embassy. I’m in Bogotá for the week. I’ll be home in 20 minutes. Put on that red dress.” His aggressive grumble hits you right in the cunt, causing your breath to hitch while you process everything.

_ Well, fuck.  _ Your brain short circuits for a second before you’re thinking with your pussy and seductively warning him in a stern command, “Don’t be late Agent Peña.”

“20 minutes,” he growls, his voice even lower than before, hanging up with a crash of the receiver.

Ok, 20 minutes. 20 minutes. You have 20 minutes before your man will be home to utterly devastate you in the best possible way. Fanning yourself with your hand, you quickly zoom through ideas while thinking of the best plan of action. 

The first thing you do is to go into your bedroom and pull out that damn dress. Catching yourself in the mirror, you realize that you really only need to wear the dress, nothing else. Undergarments would only prolong the inevitable. And with the way Javi is speaking to you, they’d probably end up ripped off and destroyed. The dress still looks as amazing as ever, the only difference being that you can see your hardening nipples underneath the fabric without a bra, though you doubt that’ll be a problem.

Making sure the room looks nice, you smooth out the covers on the bed and fluff the pillows. Without Javi in your bed every morning encouraging you to tidy up, you’ve definitely just left it a mess of wrinkled sheets and blankets. You also return his ashtray to his side table for his after-sex smokes. You had moved it into the living room when you took out his things to try and feel like he was there. 

In the bathroom you touch up your makeup. Javi doesn’t care whether you wear it or not but you know what your red lips do to him and you might as well look as good as you can for this reunion. You also spray yourself with a little of the perfume he had sent you. He bought it in Medellín and mailed it to your office a couple of weeks ago. While you’ve been wearing it ever since, Javi still hasn’t been around to experience his gift in action and you’re eager to know if he’ll recognize the scent.

In the kitchen you wash a bowl of strawberries and set them on the table. If he’s peckish, it’d be the perfect snack to share that’ll subdue his stomach’s hunger but fuel his mouth’s as you watch each other’s lips purse around the juicy fruit. Taking down two glasses from the cabinet, you pour two servings of Javi’s whiskey. Anticipation bursting inside, you down one glass in three gulps, quickly pouring yourself a refill. A little buzz could only make the night even better. 

With a last minute decision you run back into your bedroom and grab a pair of high stilettos. While you’re generally against wearing shoes in your house, you have a feeling Javier will appreciate the gesture. And you definitely feel like you’ll be rewarded for your effort. 

Glancing at the clock, Javier has two minutes to make it on time. You lean against the back of the armchair, trying to calm your breathing as you wait to hear him unlocking the door. Instead you hear a knock.  _ Fuck.  _ This is the absolute worst time for someone to come for a visit. You hope to God it’s not the abuela upstairs who Connie used to help out. You don’t need to explain the outfit right now.

Swinging the door open, you gasp. Javier is leaning against the doorway with one arm above his head, his thigh bone slightly visible from where the tight black button-up ran away from his equally tight dark jeans. With a slow bite of his lip, his brown eyes drink you in while you recover from the surprise.

Suddenly his lips are on yours, the arm on the doorway quickly scooping behind your neck to bring your face to him as he pushes the rest of your body backwards down the hall, quickly kicking the door shut on the way. Hitting the wall on accident he keeps you against it, pulling your right leg up around his waist, pressing his bulge to your stomach, his hand kneading the thick flesh of your thigh. The friction from his moustache burns your upper lip, his mouth moving so fast in its quest to consume you.

Moving his kisses across your jaw and down your neck, he hums little groans into your skin while you snake your hand to his ass, smacking and grabbing at the firm little thing. “Fuck baby,” he huffs in between breaths. “Why do you smell so good?”

“It’s that perfume you sent me,” you answer, whining when he starts nibbling on that spot on your neck. “Do you like it?” 

His head rests on your shoulder, nose nuzzling into the crease of your neck as he inhales deeply. His left hand slides up your thigh and dips under the fabric of your dress, fingers reaching the slick of your wet heat. “Eres tan perfecta, amor,” he grumbles softly before sliding a finger into you, his mouth returning to its assault of kisses. The fingers on his right hand dig into your thigh aggressively, holding you steady as those on his left hand dexterously switch between entering you and teasing your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to peak, coating him with your arousal as you whimper praise.

“Are you hungry?” you ask him while trying to control your breaths.

“What do you have in mind?” The wink he shoots you has your cunt quickly pulsing. 

As you lead him to the kitchen table, his hand never leaves your side, gently smoothing the fabric over your curves. “This dress is my favorite,” he admits when you turn around and face him, handing him his whiskey glass.

“I would have never guessed,” you tease, playfully posing for him as he sips his drink. Plucking one strawberry from the bowl, you place it in your mouth, slowly dragging your lip along it until the middle where you bite down. Reaching out, you take the remaining half and offer it to Javier, pushing it slowly against his lips until he opens and eats the remaining pink flesh. 

You giggle and drink half your glass, reaching down for another strawberry. Biting it in half again, you drag the fruit across the skin exposed by Javi’s open buttons, the top of his chest, along his collarbone, and up his neck. You groan lowly when you pop the rest in your mouth, the sweetness of the berry mixed with the saltiness of his sweat is something divine. He stands still, transfixed, as you come closer to him, wrapping your hand around his waist, lowering your head to drag your mouth along the same path the strawberry took, letting your tongue taste more of the mixture.

Catching his eye when you reach for a third berry you find the intense lust fueling inside him. You heard the little noises he made. You felt the hardness growing against your stomach. You know exactly what you’re doing to him. 

This time after you bite it in half, you dip the fruit in your whiskey, swirling it around until the alcohol has time to be absorbed. You run the berry along your body slowly, up your neck, across your chest, and down your sternum into your cleavage as far as the dress plunges. You start to pull the berry to your mouth but Javi quickly grabs your wrist, placing his glass on the table before bringing your hand to his mouth and eating it himself.

He starts on your neck, dragging his tongue along languidly before sucking little marks, making sure to bite hard on  _ that _ spot because you’ve been so devilish. His hands cup the underside of your breasts when his mouth reaches them, pushing them up so they stay still as he drags his face against them, teasing your nipples with his thumbs through the fabric.

Craving to please him, you palm him through his jeans, gawking at how impossibly hard he feels under your hand. Your other hand snakes through his hair, lightly tugging on handfuls to send little jolts of pain through him. Stilling from a particularly good pull, he groans into your breasts, the vibration jiggling the flesh around his nose. He can’t wait, clothes are staying on, he needs you now. Kissing you deeply, he leads you further into the kitchen before spinning you around so your back is to his chest.

He pushes you against the counter and pulls up your dress to reveal your ass, giving it a few good slaps to watch it jiggle before he massages the cheeks with both of his hands.  _ Fuck.  _ The way you bend over with the extra assistance of the stilettos gives him the perfect view and he wishes he could take a goddamn picture and savor this image forever. Quickly undoing his belt and zipper, he draws his straining cock out, wincing lightly at his own touch because of how sensitive he is.

He drags himself through your wet folds, gathering slick until he’s coated. Sliding slowly to the hilt, he only takes a few meager thrusts before his hips are snapping against yours. Grabbing the bunched up dress resting on your lower back, he’s mesmerized by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you and the way your ass bounces. 

Leaning his forehead against your back, he reaches under and rubs your clit while he continues to pound into you, digging his fingers into your waist for support. Sputtering curse words, you come undone on his cock, your cunt clenching uncontrollably around it. “Fuck,” he yells, bringing his hand up to grab the other side of your waist. With uneven but brutal strokes he edges closer to his peak, breathing quickly through his gritted teeth. Propping yourself up by your elbows, you arch your back more and lean your head closer to him. He nuzzles his nose next to your ear and cums just as he bites down right below your earlobe, jerking your whole body with each spurt of release as his arms spasm.

He holds you there for a while, kissing your back while trying to regain control of his body and mind. Stepping back, he slips out and begins to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. Turning around to face him, you’re met with a giant smirk, his eyes still dazed with longing. “Get on the counter and lie down.”

Wasting no time, you hop your ass up on that counter and lie back, resting your heels on the surface when you spread for him. Grabbing your ankles, he drags his thumbs over the straps. “You look real fucking good in these,” he says before placing your legs over his shoulders, letting the heels smack his back as he pulls you closer to him. Diving his mouth into you, his stays on you as you writhe from his tongue’s assault on your clit. He hums hungrily, responding to the sounds you make from him pumping two fingers into you, aggressively searching for the spot to send you over. 

The obscene noises falling from your lips match the obscene noises coming from Javi. You snake your hand into his hair, guiding his head while you grind your cunt against his mouth. He increases his tongue’s pressure and you peak, cascading arousal on his fingers, calling out his name as if it’s the only word you know. With his head resting on your stomach, you play with his hair absentmindedly while you return to consciousness.

“I think it’s time for a shower,” you giggle while Javi lightly drags his hands along your body.

“A good idea,” he agrees, letting your legs fall around him and pulling you off the counter and into his arms for a kiss.

You both disrobe quickly, even with the delay of you having to tell Javi that you draw the line at wearing the stilettos in the shower, and yes they are coming off now. In the water, Javi is extra affectionate. Gone are the wanton touches of earlier, his motions are soft but deliberate, keeping you as close to him as he can while still getting the soap around. There’s no talking, only soft chuckles exchanged when you help him get some soap out of his eye and he has the most pouty look on his face. 

You’re just about ready to turn off the water when he presses into your back, dropping his head on your shoulder and resting his arms on your waist. While lightly tracing his hands with yours, you feel the pressure of his cock slightly hardening. You reach down and gingerly pump his rising member. Javi’s quick exhales through his nostrils tickle your skin, his hands more seriously grab at your waist. 

Releasing him when he’s fully erect, you lay your back against the wall and beckon him to follow. Raising your right leg up to rest at his waist, you keep eye contact with his soft brown eyes as you guide his cock into you, only closing your eyes momentarily to focus on the feeling. He holds your leg to keep you steady and you grab his neck, forcing his mouth closer for very slow, intense kisses. His hips move just as slow as his mouth, keeping you full of his length. 

He presses his forehead to yours as he thrusts more deliberately, his breath slowly starting to fall apart. Your hand on his neck curls up into his hair to entangle your fingers while your other cups his face to drag your thumb over his cheek. You smile at him when his eyes find yours, seeing all his emotions exposed, feeling the raw intensity in the intimacy of the moment. “Te amo,” he whispers before kissing you deeply, his hips shuddering as he cums.

His eyes are hazy when you see them again after Javi can bear to tear his lips away. Taking his face in the embrace of both your hands, you lay your heart out too. “Te amor con todo mi corazón, Javier.” 

You’ll never forget the look on his face. You’ve told him you loved him a thousand times before but never like this, never in Spanish, never as sweetly. You never want him to look away. You want him to always keep his eyes on you with that love-drunk expression.

Unfortunately the tap has other plans and cold water jets out, immediately ruining the mood and the sense of calm. Javi springs to shut it off while you exit the shower quickly, giggling at the sheer luck of it all. I guess the universe thought you were being too sappy for your own good.

Once you’ve settled down in bed, Javi surprises you by cradling you on your side instead of letting you rest on his chest. He lays his head on your shoulder, dragging his mustache across while he presses kisses onto you. “I missed you so much. I hate being away.”

You allow yourself to relax into the comfort of his warmth. “It’s torture when you’re gone but damn Peña you sure do make up for it when you come back.” Your words are teasing but you mean it, the man really knows how to make a grand reunion.

Continuing to shower you with affection, he brings one of your hands to his lips for a kiss before curling his fingers into yours. “Sabes que es el mismo para mi.”

“What is?” you ask, trying not to melt from his softness.

He speaks in the sweetest grumble next to your ear, “Te amo con todo mi corazón también. Soy tuyo.” You stop breathing, you’re speechless. You tilt your head to kiss him, letting the pressure in your lips tell him what your voice fails to. Dropping your head back against the pillow, you drift off with him entangled in you, knowing that you have his heart entirely. This version of Javi might be your new favorite.

  
  


**~~**

  
  


You aren’t entirely sure what led to this but you’re having a heated discussion about horses over drinks on Javi’s last night in town before he goes back to Medellín for who knows how long. “ _ Javier _ they are killing  _ machines _ !” you jeer at him, your frustration rising.

“What are you talking about? They’re sweethearts,” he scoffs, taking a swig of his whiskey.

“I know you think that but they can literally kill you with a kick,” you insist, bugging your eyes out and wagging your finger to emphasize.

“Well that’s only if you piss them off,” he says condescendingly.

“Exactly, Javi. How am I supposed to know what’s going to piss them off. Death could be at any time.”

He bursts out laughing, “You’re ridiculous.”

“And their teeth are huge! They could probably bite my arm in half!” 

“I thought you like getting bit,” he teases. Pouncing on you, he pushes you back against the armrest, tickling your sides so you’ll throw your head back and he can nibble on your neck.  _ The bastard _ . He knows all your weaknesses.

You let out an annoyed moan: 50% frustration, 50% arousal. “ _ Javier. _ ” You roll your eyes at the smirk he gives you before resting his head on your chest, aimlessly running his fingers down your arm.

“If you grew up with them you’d think differently,” he says softly.

“I’d assume so.”

“One of the better parts of the ranch is taking care of them. It beats weeding.”

“Did you like growing up on the ranch?” you ask, playing with his messy mop of hair.

“It was great having so much land to roam but Pop always had work for me to do,” he complains.

“How big is it?”

“Not too big, but big enough. Large, but small for Texas,” he rambles, using his hands to gauge the size.

“Oh, ok,” you say, genuinely unable to picture it.

“You’ll understand when you see it,” he mumbles into your cleavage, returning his face to your breasts.

Your eyebrow raises. “When I see it?”

“Oh, um.” He pulls himself off of you and backs into his spot on the couch. “If you ever get the chance to see Pop’s ranch.”

“Do you want me to see your Dad’s ranch?” you ask, sitting up to have a better view of him.

After a long pause and averting his gaze he admits, “Well if I make it out of this job alive…I would…”

“If you make it out alive?” you ask, stunned that his mind assumes he’s not going to make it out of Colombia.

“Are you just going to repeat my words?” he snips.

“Are you planning on dying?” you snap back.

“No, just…” He digs his palms into his eyes. “When I think about the future…I don’t want to set the bar too high, just in case.”

“Let’s set it too high.” Taking your hand in his, you ask him enthusiastically, “What are you going to do when you can finally leave this all behind?”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless,” he says, digging his face into your neck for more kisses.

You chuckle but don’t let him off the hook that easily. “And then?”

He huffs and lays his head back on the couch. “I don’t know…visit Pop? Why, what would you do?”

“Oh I don’t know…” you say slyly before listing off the very long list of things you still want to do with your life. “Visit family. Visit friends. Buy a car and road trip around, stopping in weird small towns and roadside attractions. See the Grand Canyon. Spend the summer up north so that I don’t die of heat stroke. Maybe find time to fuck you senseless.” You playfully drag your finger down his nose and wink before pressing a soft kiss to his neck and curling yourself into his side. “But I don’t know I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Sounds boring,” he teases, giving you a squeeze after he pulls his arm around you.

“Do you see me in your future?” you ask sheepishly once you’ve settled back down.

“I only see a future if Escobar is dead. I’ve been here almost 10 years already and I’m still on the same case,” he admits, his voice cold. He turns your chin so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “But I’m holding on to every day with you.” 

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The turmoil of Escobar's reign of terror seeps its way into Javi and reader's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the carefree smut chapter because this one hits different. And it's the penultimate one.

And then everything changes. 

There was a set-up, an ambush, and Colonel Carrillo and his men were killed mercilessly. It was carnage. If the government thought they were winning against the cartels, they were wrong. Escobar even personally murdered Carrillo himself to send the message. A large, bloody message to prove that the narcos still have immense power and are not afraid of escalating even further. It’s a loss that the whole country mourns; and one that Javi cannot move past.

Steve is the one to call you. It’s late when he does and you immediately panic hearing his voice. Javi has been avoiding your calls and you fear the worst when it’s not him on the line. 

While Steve assures you Javi is ok, he asks you to come to Medellín because the man has barely slept or taken a break in days. For Steve to call and admit this to you, Javi must be in a terrible state. With your heart silently breaking, you assure him that you’re on the next flight out as soon as you can get to the airport.

After picking you up, Steve fills you in on the details en route to Search Bloc. You’re almost in tears while he recounts the murder and how Javier has reacted, blaming himself for it entirely. Steve figures it’s better to spring you on him with how he has been avoiding you. He leads you to Javi’s room and motions for you to enter while he turns back down the hallway. You take a moment to collect yourself before entering.

Opening the door as silently as possible, you see him in a chair by the window with his eyes closed, a cigarette in his hand that’s propped against his forehead. You close the door as quietly as you opened it but in stepping closer to him you hit a creaky floorboard and his head jerks up. Barely able to huff out your name, the two of you stare at each other while he recovers from the shock. Stamping out the cig, he jolts over and wraps you in his arms as tightly as possible.

“It’s too dangerous for you to be here,” he says with his face buried in your shoulder.

“Well someone wasn’t taking my calls,” you reply, tenderly stroking his hair.

Your shirt is damp when he lifts his head up to kiss you, softly pleading with his lips for you to stay. He rests his forehead against yours and inhales deeply, trying to collect himself. “You can’t be here.”

You grab his face with both hands and force him to look at you, the sight of his glossy eyes paining your stomach. “Javier stop trying to be strong right now. I’m already here. You can’t change that.”

He lays his hands over yours and sighs, relaxing into your touch. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to me. You’re damn well not going to let it happen.” 

Softly he smiles and brings you over to the bed, the only other real piece of furniture in the room besides the desk and chair, pouring you a glass of whiskey. He sits against the headboard and asks you to join him. You lay your back to his chest and rest your arms on his thighs that surround you. 

He says nothing for a long while, just touches you while you sip at your drink. He nuzzles his face in your hair, drags his moustache across your neck, traces your arms and thighs with his fingers, and keeps you close with his arms wrapped around your stomach. When Javi is ready he’ll talk but for now he just needs the comfort of your body.

His touch is more intense when he reaches your breasts, the pressure in his hands increasing. He takes your drink and places it on the floor before pulling off your shirt and bra. While kissing your neck, he coaxes your nipples to rise, flicking and kneading them with his fingers. 

One hand snakes under your pants to tease your folds, visiting all your most sensitive areas from memory, quickly able to build a warmth inside you. When you begin to writhe, he nibbles on your neck and his free arm slinks across your stomach tightly, keeping you locked to him. You have to bite your arm to keep from crying out, not wanting anyone in the hallway to hear. The rhythm of his fingers never stop and you support yourself on his chest, grinding your hips until you peak and slump back against him, limp from pleasure. He lightens his grip on your stomach and kisses your forehead tenderly, holding you while your heavy breathing subsides.

You maneuver out of his embrace and kneel before him between his legs. Unzipping and removing his pants, you're met with his impressive hardness, erect and ready for attention. His lidded eyes close when you lick him from base to tip, letting himself get lost in the feeling. You savor his cock slowly, paying attention to every part of it as you take him in your mouth, your taut wet cheeks gliding along him in the perfect rhythm. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he guides your movements until his thighs are trembling. Then, he swiftly pulls your mouth off of him and exhales forcefully. “Not yet baby,” he says breathlessly. “Come here.”

You remove your pants while he does the same to his shirt and crawl up next to him. He lays you on your side and hooks an arm under to grab at your breast. He drapes your leg over his and grabs his swollen cock, teasing your folds with it before sliding himself into you. Languidly rolling his hips, he kisses your neck while he fucks you. His fingers find your clit and with his steady thrusts he draws another orgasm out of you, groaning when your pussy flutters around his length.

Javi crosses his arms on your chest and his pace rapidly increases, each pound more devastating. Whimpering you clench down on his cock while his arms tighten their hold even further, using the leverage to thrust harder into you. Digging his head in your shoulder, he takes quick breaths through gritted teeth before slamming his hips against yours one final time, cumming hard with a guttural grunt.

He peppers kisses on your back as he comes down from his high. One of his hands grasps your neck and turns your head to him. His brown eyes find yours and hold your gaze while trying to breathe normally again. He’s the first to break, leaning down to kiss you, the hand on your neck stroking your chin with his thumb. When he pulls away he crashes his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he mutters sweetly. Smiling, he rolls over to lie on his back, letting out a deep sigh before relaxing against the mattress.

Unfortunately you are not in the safety of your apartment and have to redress before going into the hallway to use the communal bathrooms. Javi uses a towel to hastily clean up what he can and throws on whatever easy clothes he has lying around while helping you with yours. He leads you to the bathroom and asks you not to be too long. When you come back he’s in a similar position to the one you found him in earlier: sitting at the edge of the bed, smoking, and staring aimlessly at the floor, lost in thought.

He puts out his cigarette when you walk towards him, placing yourself between his spread legs. He looks at you for a long while before laying his head on your heart and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m here Javi, I’m here,” you whisper while running your fingers through his hair.

You’ll provide your body as a comfort for as long as he needs it. You can’t imagine how he copes with losing so many people. Well you know what he does for short-term release, but it's evident he has no long-term plan. Today is the first day you’ve ever seen Javi’s age shown on his face and it scares you to death. You have to help him through this before he destroys himself along with Escobar.

You tilt his chin up and see his sad glossy eyes desperately trying to hold his emotions inside. With a sympathetic smile you trace his face, running your fingers along his cheeks, his chin, his moustache, his nose, giving a soft touch to his every feature. Pulling his face close to yours you kiss him softly. “Let’s rest, amor. You need to sleep.” He nods silently and pulls you down with him.

Being in Search Bloc headquarters, you can’t fall asleep nakedly entangled, so you stay in the clothes you came in with. And you don’t mind, all that matters is that Javier is going to be able to rest for a night. You curl up next to him but he nudges you in the side and you turn to face him. “Baby come here,” he says, patting his chest. 

When you lay your head down on him, he sweeps one arm around you and laces his fingers in yours. His other hand strokes your hair, face, and body, not really focusing on anything, simply dragging his fingers and palm along you until he’s touched every part of you. “I need to know you’re breathing tonight,” he admits barely above a whisper. 

You hold in your tears, devastated at the fear plaguing your man’s heart. He can’t even grieve the death of his friend without worrying about yours too. He knows no peace. 

As much as you want to be his comfort and confidant right now, he won’t open up fully, fearing you could be compromised with too much information or contact. You lean up and kiss his neck one more time before letting yourself succumb to sleep, knowing he won’t be able to rest until you do.

Even though you had rolled away from him, your fingers managed to still be entwined with his when you wake up. You don’t dare make any more movements than necessary as you adjust yourself to watch him. Peace adorns his handsome face and you have to stop yourself from caressing it as it rises and falls with his steadied breathing. You can count on your hands the amount of times you’ve woken up before Javier and you’re not about to ruin the first good sleep he’s had in probably weeks.

He wakes up calmly, softly smiling when his eyes focus on you. He huffs contently and squeezes your hand, dragging his thumb along your fingers. Your heart sinks watching his brow furrow as he looks around and realizes that he’s not in your apartment in Bogotá. 

He takes his hand from yours and pinches the bridge of his nose. The slight scowl stays on his face for the rest of the morning. Despite barely letting you out of his grasp once you leave his room for breakfast, he is quiet and distant, shrouding the rest of your visit in a deafening silence.

He arranges for you to fly back to Bogotá with Messina instead of on a commercial flight, knowing Escobar already has no qualms in blowing one of those up. Unfortunately for him, Messina tells him within earshot of you that he’ll be going back in forth a lot more often until they find a new head of Search Bloc. 

Before you hop in the helicopter, you grab his face and remind him that he has a key to your apartment and if he doesn’t use it every time he comes back into the city you will have his ass for dinner. For the first time since waking up, he cracks a smile. He kisses you, muttering under his breath about how frustrating you are. But as much as he tells himself he needs to stay away, he lets himself into your place a few days later with his overnight back in hand.

The nightmares follow soon after. You’ve heard him mutter in his sleep before, usually when he collapses on the couch, too exhausted to make it to the bed. But those were just words, typically him arguing with some bureaucrat or narco in his sleep. These are terrifying. Dripping with sweat, hyperventilating, you feel his body twitching next to you before he even wakes up. And when he does the terror burning his eyes is like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

The first time it happens when you’re there he’s inconsolable, heartbroken that he brought you into this. He tries to leave and claim he can deal with it on his own, trying to find his keys to his rarely used apartment. It takes a lot of convincing him to prove that it’s ok, that you’re here for him. You attach yourself to his body, not letting him go until his heart rate matches yours. He caves to your touch, allowing himself to sink into you and let you care for him.

You won’t let him sleep anywhere else when he’s in Bogotá, not until he can last a week without having one. You’ve gotten better at calming him down now, so sensitive to his movements that often you can soothe him before he fully wakes. After weeks and a lot of effort on both your parts, he’s finally settled back into a normal sleeping pattern, well normal for him.

But then the world once again decided that Javier Peña deserves no rest. Escobar orders a bombing of a shopping center in Bogotá, killing and injuring over 200 people. Senseless random unpredictable deaths where anyone could be and was a victim. The whole country is in turmoil over the egregious violence, Javi most of all.

In an instant he’s back to a constant state of distress, all your hard work undone with the horrid act of terrorism. His worst fears are suddenly thrust back into the forefront of his mind. The day after the bombing he helps you put a second lock on your door and tests that all your windows shut correctly. He kisses you and stares into you with frenzied eyes, memorizing every bit of you. Then he’s out the door, back to the embassy where he now spends most of his time.

You barely see him over the next few months. He moves through different towns, works all hours of the day. He doesn’t check in like he used to. You feel the distance between Bogotá and Medellín now more than ever. 

Even though you know he’s insanely busy, you feel like he’s avoiding you. Half the time you try to reach him Steve picks up, and when it is Javi he’s quick to get off the phone. You doubt you’ve kept him on the phone for more than 10 minutes total in the past few weeks.

And when he is around he acts differently. He’ll rub his neck or tap his fingers to keep his body in constant motion, rarely choosing to settle and wrap his arm around you. When you wake in the middle of the night, you can find him asleep on your couch, rarely next to you in bed. Sure there’s been a few nights where he’s reached out for your comfort, but usually when you look into his eyes you see the fear you’d thought he’d gotten a handle on, the same fear that kept him from you for a long time.

Worried one night, you phone the office looking for him. When Steve answers, he tells you Javi left hours ago claiming that he needed to sleep. Resisting the urge to panic immediately, you calmly thank Steve for the information before hanging up.

Frantically pacing in your living room, you try to figure out where he could be. You hope he told Steve the truth and didn’t go out in the field on his own. Because if he’s not at your apartment, there is really only one other place he could actually sleep.

You find him where you predicted, in his apartment on his couch, too drunk for his own good. You’re relieved he’s there but you’re incredibly distraught by his state. A near empty whiskey bottle lies next to a slumped Javi, his eyes barely open while he breathes heavily through his mouth. You call his name softly before sitting next to him on the couch, reaching out to run your fingers in his hair. 

He registers your presence and groans. Grabbing your hand that’s in his hair and bringing it to his chest. “Amor.”

You help him up and sit next to him on his couch. You try to hide the pity on your face as you stroke his face with your thumb. You dart between his two sad brown eyes, trying to find anything to say that could help him even a little bit.

He breaks, having had too much alcohol to hold back any of his emotion. He falls into a fit of tears and lays his head into your lap. For as much as he drinks you’ve never seen him this out of it before and you’re genuinely scared by his lack of control. Your breath wavers as you hold back your own tears, knowing you have to be the strong one. “Javi, what’s going on?”

The alcohol betrays his lips and he spills out all the insecurities that he’s been holding in, “Forget me. Leave me. Transfer. Get out of here.” He grabs your leg while he rambles. “You can’t die. Too much death. I should die, it’s my fault.” The pain in his voice hurts you deeply. You know these are the thoughts that plague his mind constantly. “Why did I let myself drag you into this?”

Furrowing your brow, you chastise him. “Hey now Peña, this is my mess too. I didn’t come to Colombia for you. I came for me.” Softly you wipe tears from his cheek and lighten your tone. “But I’m staying for me _and_ you.”

“Don’t stay for me. Find Garza. He’s good to you,” he growls pathetically.

Genuinely shocked, you ask him sharply, “What? Do you still think about him?”

“He’s someone you deserve. He doesn’t put you in harm’s way. He didn’t fucking run away when you told him you love him.” He looks so defeated. It’s obvious he’s thought this way for a long time, constantly comparing his behavior to his past transgressions.

You turn his head to yours. “I never loved him. I only love you, stupid.”

He waves you off while his eyes close, heading closer and closer to passing out. “A terrible decision. I’m not a good man.”

Frustrated you pull him up and hold his face so he looks right at you. “Javier Peña don’t you dare start thinking I’m going to leave you. You are enough.” 

His drunk, sad face falls, unable to accept your words. “I don’t deserve you. Everything I’ve done…I’ll break your heart. You’ll see.” 

You smooth his moustache over with your thumb and warn him, “You better not Javier. I love you too goddamn much.”

Your heart has had enough. You lie down on the sofa and pull him down to wrap your arms around him so he will stay on top of you and feel enough fucking comfort to be able to fall asleep. He’s going to need a shower, some grease, and many cups of water in the morning but for now, all he needs to do is shut up and let you love him. 

**~~**

With his visits to Bogotá few and far between, you try to make every moment with him last. Whenever he’s within your reach, you spoil him with affection, caressing his hair, hugging his torso, sucking him off slowly in the shower. You consciously avoid talk of work and the news so that you can pretend you’re living in a bubble free from stressors, if just for the night. But if you happen to catch him leaving, you still see that familiar fear in his eyes in the last lingering looks before he’s out the door.

It’s not like Javi has stopped trying, far from it. He’s equally as affectionate as he was before, paying attention to your needs. But you’ve been with him too long now, you’ve known him both guarded and open; and it’s easy to tell the difference. 

You know every moment he spends with you splits his mind in two, one half enjoying the comfort and the other cursing himself for allowing it to happen. You feel it in the way he jumps at a noise in the hallway, in the waver in his voice before he hangs up, in the quick hitch of breath he hopes you don’t notice after you kiss his cheek unexpectedly. You catch him watching you sometimes and you can’t help but wonder if he’s deciding that this is the last time he’ll see you.

The worst part is there’s nothing you can do. The threat of Escobar is very real. And just being in Colombia can make someone vulnerable to a random attack, even more so if you have a connection to a person trying to take him down. 

Javi carries so much of the burden on his own shoulders, seeing firsthand the results of letting the man walk free. He lives with the constant knowledge that it's his continued failure that allows this torment to go on. You sit on the sidelines and watch the stress eat him from the inside out, hoping to God that one day the world will swing in his favor.

And one day it does. By happenstance, they catch Blackie. Escobar’s vulnerability due to his separation from his family keeps his judgement clouded and he puts his man right into capture. Blackie proves malleable and is willing to give up some more members. And then they get La Quica. And suddenly Escobar’s main team is down most of its players and is scrambling for survival. And Javi is throwing your door open, lunging at you to pull you into a deep kiss with a fervor you haven’t felt in months. 

With Escobar running out of time and capital, Javier’s spirits rise.It’s like something in him has flipped a switch and he’s allowed to enjoy his life again. His nights with you end with him wrapped up in you in bed instead of him triple checking every lock and window. He’ll pop into your office and surprise you with lunch, comfortable enough to be seen with you in public again. Sometimes he’ll sneakily put a record on when you slip to the bathroom, his hand is outstretched to twirl you into him when you return. The first time you hear him belly laugh at an offhand joke you’re so relieved you almost start crying. You missed his genuine smile flashing across that far too handsome face. 

He even agrees to hit the bar for a proper night out when he and Steve have three solid days in Bogotá. Roping in Luz and Williams, you officially get excited at the promise of your first night out on the town in months, with Javier happily in tow. 

Chit-chatting at the bar, you and Luz wait for the bartender to make two glasses of the cocktail she’s been begging you to try. Your gaze wanders to Javi while she talks about her work stresses, catching the twinkle in his eye as he’s mid-laugh from whatever stupid thing Steve said to him. _The bastard._ He’s as effortlessly handsome as ever. Sensing eyes on him, he shifts to see you looking from across the room and winks. Rolling your eyes to mask the bashful heat in your cheeks, you turn back to the bar just as the bartender arrives.

“Holy shit Luz, I should have listened to you earlier,” you gawk when you try the concoction. The way she had described the mixture was highly unappealing, but you have to admit this is something that’s going to go down way too easily.

“I told you,” she taunts, taking a giant slurp from her drink.

“Go on and head over. I'm going to order another one and make Javi try it.” Flagging the waiter down you ask him to make a third drink, much to his obvious confusion. Luz saunters back to the group with a coy smile on her face before settling in next to her boyfriend.

A rough hand lands on your lower back and slowly snakes its way down to cup your ass as the smell of smoke is thrust upon you. Before Javi says anything the bartender comes back with your drink and grumbles about the tab. Pointing to the two glasses in your hands Javi asks, “Going overboard?”

“This one is for you, baby,” you tease, waving the drink in his face.

He scoffs and cocks an eyebrow. “I’m not drinking that crap.”

“Javi, try it first then judge. I’m getting just as much alcohol as I would in a glass of whiskey but this definitely goes down much easier.” He rolls his eyes before taking a sip and quickly tries to hide his delight when he actually tastes it. _The bastard._ His ego is too large to admit that he likes it, though the glass is quickly emptied.

After a second round of cocktails the whole group is feeling the effects. Sitting next to Luz, you grab at her to regain your balance after every silly joke that makes you double over with laughter, half the time pulling her down with you. Javier sits smugly across from you but you can tell his eyes are getting glossier than usual after only two rounds. Even Steve has lightened up, bantering with Williams over why West Virginia is not as bad as he thinks.

Eventually Luz drags Williams out to the dance floor and Steve excuses himself for the bathroom, leaving you and Javi alone at the table. Pulling his smokes out of his pocket, he shakes them at you and nods towards the door with a goofy grin on his face. The boyish smile sends you back to when you were fooling around in the office, before everything got heavy, and you’re quickly following him outside.

He leads you to the side of the building and instead of pulling out a cigarette he grabs your face, kissing you as you stumble back against the wall in the alleyway. Slipping his tongue in your mouth, you can still taste him through the sweet flavors of the alcohol. He's fervent and needy and you find yourself whining into his lips, desperate for more. Breaking away and ripping his body from yours, he teasingly asks, “Are you ready to go home?”

A few minutes and one garbage excuse later, you’re back in your apartment. While you pour two glasses of whiskey, he fumbles through your collection and puts a slow song on the record player. When he calls your name you spin around to find him a few feet away holding his hand out for you to take. Drawing you to him, he places your hands around his neck while his own find your waist.

Swaying softly to the music, your body warms, feeling the heat from his eyes staring into you, memorizing every inch of your face. Taking one of your hands off his neck, he brings it to his mouth and presses soft kisses from your fingers to your neck. Reaching the crest of your jaw he starts suck and nip at the skin, the sensation making your fingers tighten their grip on him.

He brings his hand to your cheek and brings his lips to yours for a deep, wanton kiss. “I’m sorry…” he begins to say before you cut him off, shaking your head no while smoothing over his moustache with your thumb. His shoulders relax seeing your soft smile and he brings you into another kiss, this time more intense.

He leads you by the hand to your bedroom and helps you out of your clothes, making sure to please every part of skin released along the way. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor and his mouth finds you again, kissing you until you hit the edge of the bed and stumble backwards. He kneels before you and props up your legs, groaning when he sees you glistening, ready for his touch. 

His tongue takes its time building you up, teasing your most sensitive spots but never staying long enough to lead to release. His eyes stay on you, watching you writhe from his touch, encouraging him to continue his assault. 

The first orgasm is a slow build, feeling like a warm waterfall as it tingles through you. 

The next is more aggressive, his actions more deliberate and the focused pressure on your clit coaxes it out of you with a loud call of his name. 

Trying for a third one, he switches to his hands, exploring with accuracy. He leans his face against your thigh, digging his wet moustache into its thickness while he watches you succumb to the rhythm of his fingers. Coated in your arousal, he takes his fingers and strokes himself, pumping with ease because of the delicious slick. Lapping at your drenched cunt his tongue collects all that your three previous orgasms have produced. 

With his tongue inside you, his other hand presses circles into your sensitive clit and the whines you make have him stroking himself faster. You can hardly take it. Your thighs contract around his head, forcing a sharp prolonged pressure from his finger on your clit. And you cum hard, screaming out while tears leak out the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body limps against the bed, breathing heavily with your eyes closed as you try to come back down to Earth. When you’ve calmed down Javi wraps your legs around his waist and leans down to your face, his throbbing cock resting against your stomach. 

You cup his face and pull him in to kiss you, your tongue darting to his to taste your own sweetness. Every little groan of pleasure Javi hums on your lips makes you want him more. His cock twitches, the pre-cum leaking down your skin. Running your fingers through his messy hair, you just need more. “Fuck me Javi,” you beg softly.

With his head still pressed to yours, he reaches back and grabs his cock while you spread your legs more, desperate for him to enter. “Fuuuck,” he grunts as he easily slides his full length in, your drenched warm walls encasing him. 

You hold him by the neck inches away from your face, staring into those searing brown eyes while each thrust devastates you. One hand stabilizing him on the bed, his other roams up and down your body before grabbing your hip tightly, using the leverage to increase his pace. Incredibly sensitive, with his cock hitting all the right spots your fifth orgasm sneaks up and washes over you quickly, your cunt clenching rapidly around him. 

Your hands fall from his neck and he leans back, both hands digging into your waist as he slams his hips into yours. Softly moaning his name, you lay your hands over his, dancing your fingers on his wrists. His breath shudders and his whole body stills but you feel the throb inside your cunt as his cum spurts out to coat your walls.

He slumps down on top of you, wrapping his arms underneath your shoulders and resting his head on your chest. You play with his hair while you both take a moment to recover. “Well you really know how to spoil a girl don’t you, Peña,” you tease when his breathing returns to normal.

He lifts up his head and places one soft kiss to your neck before finding your eyes with his love-drunk brown ones. “I just really missed you.” 

Smiling, you bring your hand to his face and stroke it with your thumb, trying to burn the image of this man looking at you like you’re his whole world while his cock is still buried within you into your memory. “I missed you too.”

When you’re settling down for bed, he whispers your name and asks for you to curl into him. Happy to comply, you wrap a leg around his and rest your head on his chest before entangling your fingers with the hand he lays on you and resting them against his soft stomach. Very worn out, you let out a contented hum and relax in the warmth, falling quickly into sleep.

When he thinks you’re fully under he kisses the top of your head and whispers, “I hope you realize how much I love you. I’m not letting you go down with me.” You hear it but don’t have enough brainpower to process it as your mind drifts away.

**~~**

  
  


When he called asking about dinner plans around midday, something inside of you decided to blurt out that you’d make something special. You’re not really sure what the inspiration was, typically you and Javi are takeout people, but he sounded so surprised on the phone that you can’t back out now. You stopped by the store for some fresh groceries and turned the radio on to get you in the zone before settling in to cook for 2 hours. 

You chopped everything. You spiced everything. You baked everything. You pan-fried everything. You did every step of the recipe by yourself and at the end of it all, you’re pretty pleased with the results. Dipping your fingers in one of the sides for a taste, you look at the clock and furrow your brow. You had expected him to show up before everything was done cooking and now you don’t know whether to plate or wait.

An hour goes by, nothing. You cave and reheat the meal in the oven for yourself and make a separate plate for Javi. Another hour goes by, nothing. You’re getting really worried because while you know you’re not exactly the priority it would be unlike him not to call at some point, especially when you were expecting him. After another couple of minutes you open the window and nervously smoke a cigarette, hoping to catch a glimpse of his car up the road. Tapping your fingers on your hand, you sit in the armchair and wait, trying to decide when it would be appropriate to involve Steve.

Hearing the door open and close, you smile and exhale deeply, relieved that he’s finally home. “You’re late Agent Peña,” you chide before turning to him. “I worked my ass off for this dinner and you—” The smile wipes off your face when he steps into the light. Javi looks twenty years older than he is, his head is lower than his shoulders, and he’s practically collapsing on the floor the minute you make eye contact.

You rush over but he grabs your arms to stop you from fussing over him and keeps you at a distance. He takes a deep breath before speaking slowly, trying to keep his voice as flat as possible. “I’m sorry I’m late, amor.”

“Javi are you hurt?” you ask frantically, trying to find a wound on him.

He shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. Can we sit down?”

You pull out a chair from him at the kitchen table and sit in the one next to it. He rubs his neck aggressively and leaves little red finger marks to linger on his skin. He takes your hands in his, squeezing them harder than he realizes. “They’re sending me home.”

You can do nothing but stare back at him. Did you even hear him right? _Send him back?_ Javier is practically an encyclopedia on Escobar and they’re so close to catching him. They’re not sending him back.

When you stay silent, he continues talking. “I crossed some lines that you can’t uncross and I have to go home.” His eyes plead with you to say something, anything.

The only thing you can muster out with your shaky voice is, “What happened?”

“It's better if you don’t know.” He drops your hands and digs his palms into his eyes before slapping them onto his thighs aggressively. “I fucked up.”

“When do you leave?”

“Soon,” he replies, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Soon…Javi, fuck.” Blinking back tears, you inhale sharply. “What about Steve?”

“Steve’s good. He didn’t know. I kept him out of it.”

Rubbing at your temples you ask, “What does all this mean?”

“I go home and shack up with Pop until they review my case. I have to go to trial or some shit.” His nonchalant attitude pisses you off. This is not the time for him to shut his feelings off.

Letting the silence linger, you enter the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. You down it immediately and pour yourself another, letting out a loud gasp as you force the liquid down your throat. Gripping the counter with strained hands you ask your most dreaded question. “What does this mean for us?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbles, “I can’t promise much.”

You chuckle into your hands, “Of course, you couldn’t possibly.”

“I might not be in a position to decide.” The slight fear in his flat voice catches your attention.

Your head shoots up to look him in the eye, desperate for him to disprove your assumption. “How bad?”

He averts his gaze and looks at the ceiling while he rubs his shoulder blade. After a moment he closes his eyes and sighs, only to open them and look at you with a glossy sorrow that tells you what you need to know. 

“Javi,” you gasp, covering your hand to your mouth.

“I wanted him so bad. I needed to play outside their fucking rules. It worked. But I pissed off the wrong people.” He digs his palms into his eyes. “I can’t let myself think of a future with you if I may never get the chance.”

You rush over and wrap yourself around him tightly, straddling his lap, his arms curling around you. With tears silently falling down your face, your voice is wavering, “Amor, we’ll figure it out.”

He nuzzles his head into your neck. “Don’t wait for me. I’m not worth it.” His soft plea breaks your heart even more. Doesn’t he know how deeply you’re in this mess?

“We’ll figure this out,” you say, trying to convince yourself of the statement’s own truth.

But you never do. He lets you rant, but really what is there to do? He’s leaving. He may go to jail. Escobar is still out there. Long distance from Medellin was tough, from Texas it’ll be almost impossible. It would be stupid to expect this to be able to continue, but you leave the possibility open. There’ll be time to talk after Javi’s hearing, or at least you hope there is.

His last day with you comes quickly. You’re so mad that you can barely enjoy it. He looks great, of course. You know he put on that shirt just for you because you love it, _the stupid handsome bastard_. He’s nothing but kind and loving to you, spoiling you with kisses and sweet words. It all just makes you want to cry. You barely speak all night, all the fighting and pleading already said. Instead you let touch express your emotions and take hours to make sordid memories that’ll haunt you.

Waking up in his arms the next morning, for a moment you forget it’s the last time, basking in the feeling of his warm body on yours, until you see the packed bags in the corner and reality steals your last semblance of happiness. You both pretend you’re asleep for as long as possible, just lying with each other in silence, feeling the rise and fall of breathing chests. He leaves you with your spare key, the phone number to his father’s ranch, and one long, last kiss before you have to go to work. Steve takes him to the airport and he’s gone by the time you come home.

You never really did get a good try at it with Javier. All the early months were good but he kept his feelings away. Then you maybe had a couple months of good before he was in Medellín for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Then all the death and his fears got thrown in his face and kept him at an arm’s length from you. You just recently got him back. Just a few measly weeks back in your life, happy like before, when this shit happens. You finally had him, he gave you his whole heart, and now he’s being ripped away.

There was never really a label on your relationship so you don’t know what to call it. Is it a break up? Is it a separation? It's not like you’re not in love with each other, that you don’t want to be with each other. It’s not like he’s awful and you never want to see him again. You’ve just hit pause, and you don’t know whether it’s permanent or not.

**~~**

  
  


There are people running everywhere in and around the embassy when you arrive at work in the morning. Rushing out of your car, you practically sprint to your office. You have no idea what’s going on, but with this big a spectacle it’s sure going to involve Crosby and your office. Williams, surprisingly, is already in, beaming with a level of excitement that you’ve never seen from him before. “Can you believe it?” he blurts out, practically yelling, unable to control his volume.

“Believe what? What happened?” you ask, confused as all hell.

“They got him. DEA got Escobar. He was running on a fucking roof!” He’s practically shaking while telling you, the smile never dropping for his face.

Your eyes bug out of their sockets. “What?! When?” 

He yells over his shoulder as he lunges to pick up the ringing phone. “Maybe an hour or two ago. Steve Murphy got him on a whim!”

_Wow_ is all you can huff out before Crosby is yelling for you to get in his office. It’s going to be a long ass day.

Slumping down on your couch face first, you groan, reveling in the feeling of being horizontal. Work was non-stop with phone calls and orders from Crosby on what to send to the embassies and what to send to the press and arranging tv appearances. You barely had time to eat. But spreading the information was more important than anything else, it was your duty to let everyone know they’re now free from Escobar.

Closing your eyes, about to fall asleep right on the couch, you’re reminded of Javi. If you’re this exhausted after one day of Escobar’s bullshit, you can’t even imagine what years of this has done to him. If anyone deserved to be there to catch him, it was Javier. He was robbed of that moment by people who will happily take credit for his work while denouncing what was done to lead up to it. It makes you sick. 

He has to know already. It’s only been one day but it's worldwide news, he must know. You can’t stop thinking about what could be going through his mind. You know you agreed to keep your distance until the hearing but this seems like an extenuating circumstance.

Your heartbeat fills your ears while you wait for the line to pick up. It’s practically midnight and there’s a chance no one will pick up, who knows maybe Javi fixed his sleeping schedule. You’re about to give up when you hear that familiar grumble. “Peña.”

You chuckle. “You still answer the phone like that when you’re off duty?”

He says your name with a satisfied hum. “I guess it’s just a habit.”

After a beat of silence you ask, “Did you hear?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. You can picture his handsome smile falling. He’s probably running his hand over his face too.

“You deserved to be there Javi,” you sigh.

“All that matters is that they got him,” he says deflecting the thought.

“No, Javi. You deserved to be there,” you insist, your voice unwavering.

He pauses, no doubt thinking of how best to change the subject. “I’m glad you called. I know we said we wouldn’t but when do you ever listen, right?,” he teases, laying the sass on thick.

“ _Javier_ ,” you growl through gritted teeth. _The bastard_. Fuck, you love him so much. “Goddammit, don’t make me miss you.”

“Too late,” he laughs, the joyous sound roping you into laughter as well. “I miss you too.” 

“Any news from the review board?”

He groans into the receiver. “I have to go in next week. Don’t know much more than that.”

“What are you thinking?” you ask, when he trails off.

“It could go anyway,” he admits nonchalantly. You know he’s freaking out more than he’s letting on but you let him pretend like his façade is working. “But I’ll call when I find out”

“I would like that,” you say softly.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “Listen don’t get upset but it’s late…”

You cut him off. “No Javi it’s ok. I wasn’t even sure if you’d be up. I’m just happy to hear your voice. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight amor.” 

The next week comes and goes but he never calls. 

**~~**

Work is driving you mad. You should be impartial but you can’t be. You cannot get over Crosby’s decision to send Javi away and now the man is claiming most of the responsibility for Escobar’s undoing during the press briefings and it makes you sick. You need a nice, long vacation. You can’t work for him anymore. You already had grown tired of him and constantly compare how he treats you to the way Noonan did.

Noonan. You scramble in your desk and find the card she left you with her contact information and pray that it's still accurate. 

To your surprise, when she picks up Noonan is very friendly and warm, she seems way more relaxed than when you worked together. You try to keep the conversation professional and cordially ask for her help but she interrupts you and tells you to cut the bullshit and get to what you want. You laugh; she hasn’t changed. After a short but spirited summation of your situation, she agrees to help you find a job whenever you’re ready.

Sitting back in your chair, you weigh all your options. You’ve loved your life in Colombia. It’s been great all around. But, slowly things chipped away. Connie left. Noonan left. Javi left. Your love for the job left. You’re so tired of going through the motions. Javier kept you distracted for the most part, but with him gone, what’s keeping you here? Right, fuck this. You’re about to be very irrational.

Walking out of Crosby’s office, you can’t believe you did it. While caught off guard, Crosby accepted your resignation and thanked you for your work. When he asked why the sudden decision, the only reason you could give him was that you need a break, which is true. You’ve always thought about quitting and doing something rash…and now you’ve finally followed through.

There’s so much to do in the week before you leave. A lot of paperwork and phone calls to document what is done and what needs to be completed. Unsurprisingly, Crosby was able to secure a transfer to fill your position quickly and they’ll be here by Friday to speak to you before your Sunday flight. You wonder if your replacement made the decision on a whim just like you did. 

As much as he won’t admit it at work, Williams is heartbroken. He’s always valued your friendship and though he knows you can get on each other’s nerves when you spend too much time together, he doesn’t want to spend less time with you either. During your final dinner at his house, he lets you know how he really feels.

“Is it me? Do you hate me that much?” he blurts out while you two sit on his front doorstep smoking while Luz fusses over dessert inside.

Your face scrunches in confusion. “What? Williams, no. But you know, with Noonan gone, work has been different.”

“I don’t want you to go. You’re my bossy sister,” he says, giving your arm a shove.

“ _Bossy sister?_ Wow,” you gawk. Oh, you should let him have it! But you look over and see genuine sadness on his face and decide to ignore it. “It’s time to move on though, next steps.”

“Speaking of…” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box. “When do you think I should ask her?”

“How long have you been carrying that around?” you say in an excited whisper, your eyebrows raised as high as they can go.

“A couple weeks now. I bought it after I talked to Javier last time we all went out. He told me that the longer I waited to act on it, the longer the amount of time I regret will be.”

“I wish he could take his own advice,” you grumble, stamping out the butt into the ashtray you brought outside.

“How are things…with that?” he asks sheepishly, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“I couldn’t tell you. We left it open because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him because of the Los Pepes business. And he told me he’d call but he never did.”

“Hmm.” He lets out a long exhale of smoke and sighs. “He sure can be an enigma sometimes.”

You shake your head and speak with more anger than you mean to. “I’m not waiting around for him, Ben. I love him but sometimes it doesn’t work out.”

His ears perk up when you call him by his first name, immediately alerting him to the seriousness of your words. Furrowing his brow, he stamps out his cigarette. “So what are you gonna do?”

Inhaling deeply, you puff up your cheeks and let the air seep out slowly before rambling. “First I’m going to sleep for a week. Then, who knows, travel? I haven’t mapped it all out but I’m going to take off for a while.” 

“Good for you. But hey, remember to give me a call once in a while.” He gives you a pleading smile and bumps his body into yours.

You nudge his side roughly before wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Of course. I have to check in with my _annoying brother_.”

**~~**

On your very last day, you’re surprised to find a small bouquet of flowers on your desk with a note reading, “On to bigger and better things. Let me know if you’re ever in Mexico. – Garza.” Clutching the note to your chest, you smile. Of course he fucking found out. Noonan probably gave him a call.

“Getting presents ‘till the very end, huh?” Nicole teases while coming into your office.

“You know Garza. He can’t resist.” You laugh, turning to face her.

“So this is it, last day,” she sighs with a sad smile.

“Yeah.” 

“I just wanted to say thank you. You always saw me as more than _just a secretary_ and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ll miss working with you. Even if you did stop my favorite office flirtation from blossoming.”

She nearly has you in tears until the end when you can’t help but bust out laughing. You had forgotten how hard Nicole flirted with Javier. “Well I’m sorry for _that_ , but you’ve always been excellent at your job, no thanks necessary. Try to keep the fort down after I’m gone. With only Williams in charge, things could start to fall apart.” 

It's her turn to laugh and she reaches out to hug you. You’re surprised but accept, wincing when she squeezes you a bit too hard. You didn’t realize Nicole thought so highly of you. You make sure to give her all your extra supplies on your way out as a parting gift.

Packing the apartment is the last step on your list. The embassy had furnished it before you arrived and you don’t have that much that’s yours outside of the bedroom. Williams comes over and takes the paintings, mirrors, and anything else that he could possibly need down the line. On his way out, he promises to take you for breakfast before he drops you at the airport in the morning, kindly hinting that you should be ready to go when he arrives. 

Everything else gets packed up into two large suitcases and surprisingly fits. You leave enough room for two days worth of clothes, toiletries, and snacks in your carry-on bag and do a final sweep of the place. In your search you realize that you haven’t looked in the drawer of Javi’s bedside table. Well, it's not really _his_ bedside table, but you always thought of it as his and he used it a lot. You assume that he got everything when he left but open it just in case.

You wonder if he left it on purpose, seeing as it was kind of a gift. The embroidered cuffs with “ _doll_ ” etched into them lay squarely in the center of the drawer. Rolling your eyes, you pick them up and trace the leather with your fingers before placing it in your bag. They’re definitely coming with you.

Pulling the drawer fully out, you have to jostle it when it hitches and find a picture stuck to the back edge. You can’t help but smile when you look at it, taking it in your hand for a better view. It’s from his birthday, the date is scribbled on the back along with the name of the lake you surprised him with a trip to. You had packed sandwiches and whiskey for food and as the sun went down you snapped a couple pictures with the Polaroid. You and Javier both have other pictures from this shoot. You used yours as a bookmark for a while.

But, this one is an outtake. The sky was blurry because your arm shook just as you took it, but you and Javi were clear as day. Your eyes were closed, mid-laugh from when Javier decided to tickle your side. But, oh, the look on Javier’s face makes you want to cry. He’s looking at you with his trademark shit-eating grin yet his eyes are full of adoration. You haven’t seen that look in too long a time for your liking.

That was a good day, a relaxing time out of the city, free from stressors and distractions, that ended with him fucking you in his jeep. That man can make any space work for him. When it finally came time to start driving home, you attempted to move to the front seat but he pulled you back against him for one more kiss and told you it was by far his best birthday yet. 

The teardrop running down your cheek pulls you out of your memory and you stuff the picture in your bag before shutting the drawer firmly.

You christen the end of an era by finishing off the last whiskey bottle in your possession while dancing along to whatever the radio decides to play. Everything feels surreal. You’re really leaving. You’re really uprooting your whole life with no plan. 

Williams is knocking on your door at 10am, hoping you're ready and hungry. He excitedly grabs your suitcases and begs you to yet again to a final look-over. Walking through the rooms once more you feel oddly calm. Maybe it’ll hit you when you’re on the plane, but you haven’t yet grasped how much your life is going to change. With a deep sigh, you glance down the hallway of your apartment one more time before shutting it and locking it forever.

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader takes some time for herself and crosses things off her bucket list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a POV switch at some point in the chapter. The chapter covers the entirety of Season 3 and then some. :)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read this and stuck around. This is the first creative project I've had in a long time and the first work I've ever shared publicly. <3 I appreciate any and everyone who has said anything to me about this fic and I hope I've given you a satisfying ending to this smut epic <3
> 
> And without further ado...

Exhausted getting off the plane, you’re relieved to finally be able to have a break from the dramatics of your life. Smiling softly, you allow yourself to sink into your relative as they squeeze you so tightly in a much-needed hug before helping you into the car. After a short drive that you accidentally spent sleeping, you audibly sigh and let your shoulders sag as you drop your bags on the floor of the room you haven’t seen in years. 

Taking advantage of your family’s hospitality, you practically sleep away the first week there. By the second week, you’ve bought a car and started milling around town. And by the third week, it feels like you never left. 

Letting yourself indulge, you revisit all your old hangouts and foods from your past that you’ve been idealizing for years. A lot of things are just as you remember, such as the diner’s pancake special and how bitchy your Aunt Gina is. But some things have changed, like how they bulldozed the general store and put in a fucking Bennigan’s. 

After a month though, you’re itching to once again get out of the bubble of your hometown and finally set out on the road trip you’ve been fantasizing about. Connecting with people you haven’t seen in ages, you make your way across the country with an itinerary of where but not when and how long. Traversing aimlessly, you visit odd towns, odd attractions, and odd friends while you put a shit ton of miles on the car.

You spend a few days with Daisy in New Orleans, drowning in booze and dowsing your food in Tabasco. You head out to Marco’s ranch in Oklahoma for a week and roast him for moving out to the middle of nowhere when his wife is out of earshot. You even hit up your estranged cousin Erica who moved out to LA to shoot porn; which is a fucking amazing week you never expected. She really is out there living her life unapologetically and if you have to choose between her and Aunt Gina, the decision is already made.

After two solid months on the road you decide to rent a room for a while and relax near the Grand Canyon, not missing the chance to catch up on sleep. At a leisurely pace, you explore the desert and come to appreciate its unique beauty. You make a few friends between the other drifters and the locals and find yourself on many spur of the moment adventures, one such night leading to a rather scandalous skinny dipping experience. 

On your last day in town you decide to get up before dawn for one last look at the marvel. It’s minutes before sunrise and you’re sitting by yourself, anxiously waiting to see the light fill the canyon, purposely keeping your distance from the other early risers so you can breathe easily, when you get the urge to cry. You’ve had nothing but fun for almost three months now and suddenly, just as you’re about to check something off your bucket list, you think of him. 

You haven't reached out at all, though you’ve thought about it a lot. You still have the number for his Dad’s ranch, where he most likely is. You made sure to pack it before you left. What’s keeping you from calling?

The pink haze in the sky slowly illuminates the landscape, filling in the deep trenches with colors too pure to describe. While watching the sun roll in, you find yourself crossing your arms around your torso, ghosting fingers on your upper arms where you imagine he would be, pressed up against your back, head on your shoulder, holding you tight to him as you both take in the view.  _ The bastard.  _ It’s hard to enjoy the moment with bittersweet thoughts of what could have been. 

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you head to your car and try to focus on the next leg of your journey.

After a little game of phone tag, you’ve finally been able to track down Connie’s number at her new house through her sister, who’s contact you’ve had since Connie abruptly left Colombia. It only takes a couple of minutes on the phone for her to convince you to visit for a spell, mentioning how the cool water will calm you down as the temperatures heat up. 

Upon arriving on the Murphys’ doorstep you stumble back when Connie throws herself into the biggest, tightest hug you’ve had all year, taken aback by the sheer force of it. You could cry. You’ve missed her so goddamn much.

You feel so giddy. The smile never leaves your place as she excitedly welcomes you into her home and gives you a tour. Catching up quickly over coffees in her kitchen, you just melt into your feelings while enjoying being in her presence before Steve comes home with Olivia and the night is turned into enjoyable chaos.

Steve and Connie are noticeably more in love now than they were in Colombia. You never had a doubt about their marriage, but the constant threat of violence definitely kept a tension harboring between them. Back on the Miami beat, the couple has reclaimed their laid-back Florida ways and Steve has embraced the half-unbuttoned, pattern shirt look, which you just know Javier would mock mercilessly. 

Olivia, as predicted, is still the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s been over a year since you’ve seen the little chunk and her magnetic pull to get everyone to fawn over her has only increased with age. She’s old enough now to speak, demand, and express her wants. And she’ll be damned if she lets herself be ignored. She loves having you around the house and asks you a million questions. You’re another person for her to entertain; and you have no problem letting her perform.

One night, Steve graciously offers to keep Olivia all to himself so that you and Connie can go out. 

She takes you out to her favorite restaurant and you fall back into your old habits over appetizers and mixed drinks. You talk of nothing but good times and eagerly hang onto her every word. Each time Connie calls you  _ honey  _ your heart skips a beat, her love makes you feel so safe. In your lucid state from the alcohol, you live in the fantasy that life has always been this good, laughing with your dear friend without a care in the word. Ignoring your grumbles, Connie pays the check with a wink and rushes you out to the parking lot so you can head to a bar and continue your night.

You’re all smiles and laughter until you walk into the dive and find that it’s cowboy night. You didn’t expect this 180 of emotions. At first you’re fine. But when you lock eyes with someone that could vaguely pass for Javier and his stupid handsome moustache, and he tilts his hat down at you with a wink, you can’t help but bolt to the bathroom and cry.

Connie follows after you, extremely confused and concerned. “Honey, what happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry Connie. I just…he looked like Javi and he’s dressed like he’s from Texas and the combination of the two…” you ramble in between sniffles. 

“Oh no, honey. It's ok.” She brings your head to her shoulder and lets you drunkenly sob, patting your head and assuring you it’s ok to let it out.

“No Connie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to have a good night.” You feel so pathetic, crying in the club because you vaguely saw someone who looks like him. And he wouldn’t even wear something like that, it just made you think of Texas and him living his life without you. Get a grip.

“Do you want me to ask him if you can slap him?” She’s joking but just drunk enough to go ask him if you say yes.

You laugh and wipe some tears away, thankful to have her back in your life. 

With your emotions out of your system you head back out and enjoy the rest of your night. It’s easy to forget your earlier worries when Dolly blasts over the speakers and you’re willed to sing your heart out.

Stumbling out of the taxi around 1am, you flop yourself down on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions. Connie tip-toes up the stairs to her bedroom, dreading the consequences if Olivia wakes up. You both quickly will yourself to sleep, trying your hardest to get as much sleep as possible before the inevitable morning routine.

A little after dawn, you’re awoken by a screaming child belly-flopping onto your stomach, quickly followed by her stressed father pulling her off of you and apologizing. “Let Auntie sleep, Liv,” he scolds his daughter as he leads her to the table for breakfast. The damage is done, however, and you yawn loudly before joining the toddler, much to her delight. 

Steve mutters something to you about watching her because he’s going to be late and the instant you acknowledge him he’s already grabbing his jacket and rushing out the door. “Guess it’s you and me kid,” you say to Olivia, watching her crush spoonful after spoonful of cereal.

“Jenna and I go to the movies today. You come too.” she says with her mouth full of food.

“Auntie, can’t,” Connie protests, rubbing her eyes as she walks into the room. “We only have tickets for us and Jenna and her mom.”

“Not fair,” Olivia pouts.

Connie focuses her attention on you. “You going to be fine by yourself for a few hours? Feel free to take the house key and leave or take a nice long bath and relax.”

“Connie I’ll be fine,” you assure her with a smile. “And I will most definitely be using all your mom’s best soaps in her tub,” you add, tickling Olivia while you speak to make her squeal.

It’s shocking how quickly the silence gets to you as soon as they leave the house. You’ve been on your own plenty since starting this road trip but being alone in the Murphys’ house makes your mind wander to places you don’t want to go. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and stare out the window, watching the suburban people go about their day to distract yourself. 

Suddenly, you can’t take it and rummage through your bag for that little scrap of paper with the Texas number on it. 

Your hands shake while you dial and you press entirely too hard on each key. You feel so stupid for acting as you are, your mind falling apart from your surge of nerves. You didn’t break up but you also didn’t not break up. But he hadn’t called you. And then you moved.  _ Oh God _ . You feel like you might throw up with your heart beating so loudly you can hear it in your ears when the line picks up and someone speaks, “Hello?”

“Hi…is Javi there?” you ask shakily.

“Oh I’m sorry. My boy got called back to Colombia a few months ago.” 

He what?  _ The bastard. _

You pause before stammering. “… _ Oh _ …I’m sorry to bother you then.”

There’s a pause of silence before the voice you’re assuming is Javi’s father asks, “What’s your name darlin’ ?” When you answer him he makes a noise of recognition. “I’ve heard of you.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard. “Oh?” 

“Yeah he’s mentioned you quite a bit actually.” You’re too shocked to say anything, letting the dead air hang between you. He can sense your hesitancy through the phone. “He’ll wise up. But don’t you wait around for him. The boy will learn his lesson one day.”

“Thanks…you don’t have to tell him I called,” you say sheepishly.

“Nonsense. Only problem is I never know the next time he will call. Do you have a number where he can reach you?”

“Actually I don’t…I’m sort of taking the year off to mess around,” you admit.

“Well good for you. After all that stress down there, I wish you luck.” He seems to genuinely mean his words and you wish you were able to have met him already. Javi always speaks so highly of his father and you can understand why just from this short conversation.

You’re comforted but there’s still a distinct sadness in your voice when you reply, “Thank you.” 

“Goodbye now,” he says to swiftly end the call in the nicest way possible.

“Bye.” Your response is so soft you’re not sure he heard it before the call ended. 

Returning the receiver to its place, you crash into the couch, sprawling out in disbelief. Javi is back in Colombia and he’s been there for months now. You’ve been torturing yourself about how he’s been so close this whole time and you could have just called him and drove to Texas and he’s back in fucking Colombia. You kill whatever fantasy you had in your head about reuniting. It’ll just never be in the cards for you two, will it?

Out of all your conflicting feelings you manage to settle on that you’re happy he’s alive and not in jail, everything else leaves you more confused about Javi than ever.

After another week on their couch you have to pry Olivia away from your leg once your car is packed. Her father has to hold her in her arms while she struggles to break free in between cries of “ _ No _ ” and “ _ Don’t go, Auntie _ ”. Dammit this little girl is going to be so spoiled when she grows up. And you sure as hell will be part of the problem. You’re already thinking of what to get her for her birthday that’s months away. 

You thank everyone one more time, making sure to leave Olivia with a thick lipstick print on her cheek, and pull out of the driveway.

Since you’re already so far south, you decide that it’s a great chance to get to Key West. It’s a longer drive than you expected, with traffic increasing once you hit the one lane road that connects most of the islands, but the scenery is worth it and you happily sing along to the radio with your windows down. 

Everyone is so relaxed in the town and you make fast friends. You quickly get out of the rundown hotel near the center streets and move to the apartment style motel closer to the water where a bunch of the seasonal workers stay for the summer. You stay for a few weeks, enjoying the laid-back yet intense party atmosphere until it gets too hot and you’re hating even being outside.

One of your neighbors tells you about a beach town in Connecticut that they used to frequent when they worked at a restaurant for a summer. Apparently it has a lot of reasonably priced rental places and your curiosity is fully piqued. Knowing that you’ll never survive the rest of the season below the Appalachians, you take the suggestion and start the long journey north. 

Much to Olivia’s delight, you do detour for one more weekend at the Murphy’s before charging up the coast. She doesn’t waste any time into wrapping you into another round of “Princess Astronaut Tea Time”.

Charming the pants off the older couple who run the rental agency, you’re able to snag a two bedroom cottage right on the water for the whole summer. It's one of their smaller properties and when you tell them all about your travels, they hang on your every word, forcing you to stay for lunch and giving you a better deal than they normally would. Before you even have the key in hand, they have you promising to attend three separate events coming up in the week. And you will end up going, what else are you going to do? 

Stocking up on food at the store, you also grab a set of stationary, envelopes, and stamps so that you can send out letters inviting anyone and everyone to come visit you before Labor Day. Well, you invite everyone except Aunt Gina. 

Being sneaky, you add some Jolly Ranchers into the Murphys’ envelope hoping to get Olivia hooked on the idea of a vacation so that her dad will cave. You know Connie is already halfway packed. 

The house is quaint. It has an unassuming but inviting front and a comfortable layout that’s just big enough that you won’t go crazy cleaning it. It's surprisingly colorful inside and it seems the couple put a lot of thought into the décor. Your favorite thing though is the view through the sliding glass doors that lead to a tiny patio out past the kitchen. The whole ocean is visible and you can just imagine being able to drink your coffee and watch from the kitchen table or relax in the breeze with a glass of wine in the wicker chairs outside.

It’s the easiest and most relaxing summer you’ve had since childhood. Through the older couple you meet a solid group of people and bounce between their rented houses, following whoever opens their door for the night. Every night is a surprise and you’re just happily going along for the ride. 

The best time is always had when Peter and Frank break out the wine after everyone else leaves. Through a few jaunts at the karaoke bar after community events, they’ve grown to be your closest friends here, even if you’re third wheeling all the time. They’ve been renting the same house each summer and know the area super well. Some days they give you a ring in the morning whenever they decide to take a random trip for the day, usually taking you somewhere extremely delicious or ridiculous. 

You also find yourself reading through every book in the house, zooming through the fantasy and mystery novels and giving the war stories a side-eye, they’re definitely a last resort. 

Really every day is something new and you’re always game to try things once if invited. You understand the appeal of murder mystery dinner parties and actually kind of like badminton, getting to whack the shit out of the shuttlecock feels great, even though everyone dresses so pretentiously. Line-dancing however…you’ve passed up every opportunity since Frank conned you onto the dance floor after you had had one too many shots.

**~~**

It’s golden hour when there’s two knocks at your door. Curious as to who could be inviting you to dinner or an adventure, you happily skip over and fling it open, only to stumble back and almost pass out when you see who’s before you. 

He’s a little sweaty, panting heavily from nerves, dressed in a half-unbuttoned pink shirt and his tight jeans. Javier Peña is at your door. Frozen in shock, you go through such an array of emotions that you have no idea which one ends up plastered on your face. All you can do is stare.

He watches you with a mix of worry and elation, waiting for rejection but desperately hoping you’ll let him stay. Shifting his weight between his feet, his hands rest on his waist as he quickly licks his lower lip. He tilts his head slightly and smiles while his eyes begin to water. “Amor…”

Lunging forward, you cut him off, grabbing his face to kiss him. In an instant his hands are on your hips, holding you to him as he kisses you right back. Tears stream down your face while you keep him close, lips only parting for milliseconds at a time. Needing to breathe, you break away and crash your forehead against his, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “How are you here?”

“It’s a long story. Can I come in?” You nod and wipe some tears away when you pull back, turning to re-enter the house. He reaches out and grabs your hand before you get too far, interlacing his fingers so you’ll stay close. 

Leading him into the living room, you step away and drop his hand, defensively cross your arms, grabbing at your shoulders while you ponder what to do. “Um, do you want something to drink? Are you hungry? Are you hot? Do you want to sit down? I’m sorry I’m rambling I just…I’m in shock.”

He drags his hands down his face, spreading his tears you hadn’t noticed fall and coating his cheeks in a wet sheen. “Amor, I’m fine. I’m with you. I don’t need anything else.”

You choke on a joyful cry. “Yeah?” A second wave of tears wells in your eyes. It still doesn’t feel real that he’s here.

He wraps you in his arms and holds your head to his chest with the palm of his hand. “I’ve missed you every day. And I’m so fucking happy I found you. Fuck, this barely feels real. But I’ve been an idiot. I can explain everything when you’re ready.”

Lifting your head from his chest, you find his glossy brown eyes staring into you with longing and hope. You just want to kiss his worry away, to welcome him back into you, body and soul. But isn’t that what you always do? As much as you’ve missed him do you really want to start this dance over again? Can you survive another crash ending of this rollercoaster?

_ Fuck _ . Your eyes wander. He looks so good. Why have you never seen him in pink before? He looks too damn handsome for his own good. God, it's so hard to make a rational decision with him so close to you, needing you.

He keeps himself restrained by locking his muscles, stiffening his shoulders. His breathing grows heavier the longer you stare at him, saying nothing. He would kill to know what’s going through your mind, your beautiful face is giving him no clues. He watches you, eyes roaming all around your body, drinking you all in again in case you kick him out, focusing on your sweet lips that he’s missed so much. He’d happily kiss you again and again if that’s what you want, if you’d let him stay.

You whimper softly. You can’t kid yourself any longer. It’s been torturous without him, without answers in general. Javier has you wrapped around his finger and you just need to succumb for a while. “Ok, I will listen. But first…you need to kiss me like you mean it.” 

His eyes close for a moment as you slowly drag your thumb across his lower lip. Inhaling deeply, he averts his gaze to the ceiling before dropping his face to yours so his lips graze yours slightly. “Amor, that part won’t be hard at all.” 

It’s not that you forgot how good he feels, it’s the overwhelming emotions of having him again that has you clinging to him, your hands running wild while your mouths collide. The softness of his hair, the slope of his nose, the taste of his kiss, it all feels like home. In your eager haste, he manages to stumble backwards and hits the couch, falling and pulling you down with him. Adjusting your legs, you straddle him and use the leverage to deepen your kiss, eliciting Javi to moan when you brush over his hardening cock.

Breathless, you pull away and hold his head in your hands so he won’t continue kissing down your neck. You take a second to compose yourself, calming your urges so that you can form a coherent thought. As you find his eyes, the love-drunk look filling them makes you giggle. “Whiskey?” you ask with a growing smile, flattening his mustache with your thumb.

“Always,” he answers, placing his hand over yours and nuzzling his cheek into it.

Coming back with two glasses, you sit just far enough away from him on the couch, not allowing him anything more than for his hand to be entwined in yours. While you are eager to hear everything that you’ve missed in his life, you don’t trust yourself to make a wise decision without putting some physical distance between you. 

Looking him over through your drink as you sip, you watch him nervously adjust himself and rub at his neck. He’s never been this uncomfortable with you. It takes everything to keep your composure and not break down your protective wall to comfort him.

Placing your whiskey on the side table, you bite your lip and ask, “So you have something to say?”

His fingers tap nervously against his glass before he takes a large swig and puts it on the side table. Reaching for your hand, he takes a deep breath and drags his thumb over your knuckles. “Amor, I have a lot to say.”

**~~**

He beat himself up the whole plane ride. The minute the wheels left the ground he knew he had fucked up. He didn’t let you slip through his hands, he had actively pushed you away by refusing to listen. He had himself fully convinced it was better but fuck, he was dead wrong.

It was easy to distract himself during the daytime. He was out on the ranch with his Dad, tending to whatever task he was assigned. He was rushed to relatives' houses and paraded around because _guess who came home_. He even saw his ex-fiancée at a party. He had a long talk with Lorraine and she forgave him, even though he still hasn’t done so himself.

But at night, after his Dad went to sleep, he sat in the living room with his whiskey and would catch himself staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring. He should have just picked up the receiver and dialed you himself. He knows your damn apartment number by heart for fucks sake. After the way he left though, he wasn’t sure if he could call. It would break the terms he fought so hard to set. He’s so goddamn stupid.

But you, you frustrating woman, you didn’t listen and you called. And he let his mind forget why he wasn’t next to you for one minute until you asked about the hearing and suddenly he couldn’t even bear to hear your voice anymore because it hurt too much. He was so worried about losing you that he wasted the time he still had with you. If only he fucking knew that it was going to be ok.

When he found out he was being sent back to Colombia and was being promoted on top of that, he couldn’t fucking believe it. Of course the US government would pull this shit. He did all the work, got sent home before he could see the job through, and now they want him back down there like nothing happened? Fuck off.

He accepted though, his first thought being how quickly he could get back to you. He thought he could surprise you. He tried being really romantic for once in his life and it bit him in the ass. It was a quick return, he’d be in Colombia maybe a week after his hearing and he thought about how overwhelmed you’d be if he just showed up at your door. His heart beat faster at the thought of how big the smile on your face would be.

But to his chagrin, you weren’t in your apartment, and the new guy didn’t appreciate the 2am intrusion. Why the fuck was there a guy in your apartment? And where the fuck were you? 

In talking to Williams, he learned that you up and quit in order to take some time off to do god knows what. He said he didn’t have a number to reach you because you had no plan of where you'd be. He was devastated. It was the worst possible outcome. Why didn’t he just fucking call you as soon as he knew? Now he was back in Colombia, back in narco shit, and you were unreachable. 

Just his fucking luck. It's what he deserved for putting you through hell and not sticking with you. You were always so honest and he was such a coward. Escobar was already dead the last time you talked to him, he could have committed then. But, the thought of losing you plagued him so much that he manifested it to happen.

Williams had patted him on the back and gave him a pitying smile but it did fuck all to calm him. Whatever relief he had about being sent back without charges was gone, he was down here to finish the fucking job and get out. He stocked up on whiskey and headed back to the apartment he hadn’t been in much for over a year now. He resigned himself to his old habits of distraction and kept his head down, burying his feelings into work.

Being the boss was so fucking stressful. The Cali cartel was a whole different ball game. The time he spent leading the attack on them felt as equally as long as the ten years he felt on Escobar’s trail. Everything was new and nothing was good. Steve was gone and he had a whole new team to trust. Even without having to do all the groundwork, he barely had time for sleep, let alone anything else. And you weren’t there.

He had no way to reach you so he had to rely on the few mementos he had for comfort. He kept those polaroids from his birthday. One he shoved in his drawer at work, and the other stayed on the coffee table where he drank his whiskey at night. He lost his favorite one though, the one where your eyes are closed. You looked like pure starlight in that one. 

And in his nightstand by his bed he had those ones you took to christen the camera, the ones with his favorite red dress half on. And also the ones where the dress was fully off. He may have also snuck a pair of your panties in his suitcase too, though he won’t admit it in fear that you’ll ask for them back.

It took six months and the Cali cartel came down. So he said fuck the DEA and went back to his Dad’s ranch. They wanted him to transfer and continue catching narcos but the job had already eaten away at so much of his life, it was time to move on. Pop was happy to have him back so quickly and wasted no time in putting him back to work.

He was settling in fine, slowly trying to ease his mind back into ranch life, until Pop slipped into conversation that you had called a couple months back. He froze, dropping his fork so it clanked against the plate, stunned into silence. 

He assumed you wrote him off, done with his shit, you were always too good for him anyway. You left no way for him to contact him, no sign you even wanted him to. But goddammit if you called, maybe he still had a chance. He groaned when his father admitted you didn’t leave a phone number to call because of course you didn’t, because you’re so fucking frustrating. 

Racking his brain for ideas, he called Steve, remembering how close of friends you and Connie are. He made the right move. It turned out he missed you by maybe a month but yeah, you had visited them plenty. Steve put Connie on the phone and she told him about the letter where you invited them for a visit. It contained your temporary address and number and he wrote the information down hastily.

It only took him a few minutes after he hung up to realize this was his chance. He waited too long the last time, he knew where you were and dammit he was going to go to you. His father didn’t say much when Javi said he was leaving in the morning, but he offered his son a nod and a smile and Javier knew his father approved. 

He drove to the airport the next day and got the closest flight he could, following it with a connecting one to Hartford. He got a rental car, snacks, and a bunch of maps then started driving. It was on the second hour of his drive that his brain finally caught up to him and panic set in.

He had no idea how you would react. He had no idea if you would be alone. You’ve had plenty of time to get over him, plenty of time to find someone new. God help him if someone else opens the door when he gets there. But, he forced the self-sabotage out of his brain. Fuck, if he didn’t continue driving he would never forgive himself. 

_ Fuck, _ he loves you. He’s always loved you and there’s nothing stopping him anymore. You won’t be in danger just by simply being around him. Everything that threatened either of your lives is gone. He’s finally free. He’s finally allowing himself to imagine a future. And he knows exactly what he wants.

**~~**

He plays with your hands throughout his speech, tracing them, squeezing them, holding them. He never looks away from your face, watching every reaction you have and wiping your tears away as they fall. When he wants to make something distinctly clear, he cups your face so you’ll look right at him in his gorgeous brown eyes. He finishes with bated breath, eagerly waiting for you to say something, anything.

You’re silent the entire time. You can tell every word he says is genuine and can’t help but get emotional. Your face reacts but no words come out. Javier is such a fucking fool but you love him.

The timing between you two has always been awful. It was never your relationship that was a failure, it was always the circumstances. Javi was right to be so fearful. He was seeing everyone he cared about be targeted or killed, in addition to all the bodies he saw on a regular basis. You stuck by him through everything...but he always left. Even with all the old threats gone, who’s to say he won’t find another reason to leave?

“Why did you come to find me?” you finally muster out, noticing the strained panic in his eyes.

“What do you mean? I love you,” he responds flatly, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“You loved me before and you still left,” you protest, your voice cracking slightly.

He winces and closes his eyes, dropping your hand to rub at his forehead. “I had to leave.”

“Javi, you had to leave the country but you didn’t have to leave me,” you counter softly.

His gut falls through the floor when you hang your head. He feels like the biggest fool in the world. He knows you’re right. “I was fucking afraid and I thought…I thought it was the best thing to do,” he stammers.

You cover your face in your hands and drag them down until they rest on your chest, keeping your eyes cast down. “Javi, we’ve been through this before. Over and over again, it’s always the same thing. Who’s to say that you won’t find another thing to be afraid of?”

He props your chin up with his hand so you’ll look at him and speaks with conviction. “I have nothing left to fear except you not wanting me. Everything that’s held me back is gone. I’m out of the DEA. Escobar is dead. The Cali cartel is in jail. Amor, if you’ll have me again, I’ll spend every day proving I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He wipes away a tear that trails down your cheek. “Javi,” you coo mid-breath as your resistance dies out.

“I mean it.” He shuffles closer and takes your face in both his hands, staring into your soul. “Te amo. Soy tuyo.”

Darting your gaze quickly between his eyes and lips, you slowly close the gap between you. You reach a hand around his neck and pull him until your noses touch. “I love you too,” you whisper just before your lips collide.

This time you allow the kissing to turn passionate quickly. Pushing him back into the cushion, you swing your leg and plant yourself in his lap, immediately feeling his prominent erection. He trails his mouth down to suck a mark on your neck while you unbutton his shirt, throwing the fabric open and digging your fingers into his chest. With a groan, he flings his shirt to the side and quickly tosses yours, only to send his mouth to the soft pillows of your breasts held up by your bra.

Your wanton noises egg him on as his tongue slides up to your collarbone, then to just below your ear, before he bites down on your neck. Your inability to focus leaves you fumbling with his belt, taking far too long to undo the buckle. Frustrated, you nudge Javi back against the couch, much to his dismay, and slide down to kneel in front of him.

With a swift motion, you unlatch the belt and chuck it across the room, hoping the inanimate object learned its lesson. Hastily, you free his cock from its restraints, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His back arches instinctively as you grip him, spreading his immense pre-cum down his shaft. Soft sounds shudder in his throat when you take him in your mouth, suctioning your cheeks and letting your tongue lap at the underside. 

God, you missed his cock. Every second you taste him has you salivating for more, soaking his length, improving your motions. His hands snake into your hair, slightly tugging each time his body twitches from pleasure. You relax and take him down your throat, your nose pressed into his soft hairs, and the guttural curse he moans has your thighs clenching together to curb your own arousal. When you release and repeat the action, his hand pushes down on you for a moment before pulling you off of his cock completely. “Not yet,” he pants, pools of black hiding his normally brown eyes.

Leaning forward, he starts nudging you so you’ll lay down on the floor, your back resting against the hardwood. He kicks off his shoes and the rest of his pants before encompassing your body with his and bringing his lips to yours. Expertly, he unhooks your bra with one hand and helps you shimmy it away, his mouth darting to your breasts to worship them. He nips and sucks at the sensitive peaks while his fingers stroke the wet fabric that’s covering your core.

His kisses travel further south until he reaches your waistband, which he smoothly slides down to add to your collection of clothes strewn around the room. When he spreads your legs and sees you glistening just for him, he groans some muddled Spanish under his breath, overcome with a need to taste you. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he lowers his face to your pussy and unravels you with his tongue. Giving you the same languid motions with which you devoured him, he takes his time reacquainting himself with all the spots that make your toes curl. 

He watches you whimper and writhe as your orgasm builds, focusing his effort on your needy clit. He runs a finger through your folds, coating it with slick and entering you, curling to perfect devastation. When you react with the most satisfied squeal, he adds another finger, pumping the two into a rhythm to match his tongue. Catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes, it pushes you over and you cum, the high roars through you like a tingling fire.

He rocks back onto his knees and licks the arousal off his fingers, his eyes rampant with lust as he watches you come down. You reach out for his hand that rests on your thigh and squeeze it. “Baby, I need you,” you plead, rolling your hips against the floor.

He grunts and grabs two pillows off the couch. One he places under your head so you’re comfortable and won’t knock into the wall. The other goes under your ass for leverage and to keep you from sliding across the floor. His intense stare sends electricity down your spine as he drags his cock through your dripping folds, watching your pretty face contort in shameless anticipation. He lines himself up at your entrance and dips just the tip in, your body instinctively jerking forward, trying to surround him in your wet warmth.

Holding his cock in place, he leans down and brings your face up so your mouths are barely apart. He lets himself slink slowly to the hilt inside your cunt while he claims your lips in a deep, sinful kiss. He lets your head fall back to the pillow and places his hands on either side of your body, lazily thrusting into you, stretching your walls to perfection.

Once you start rolling your hips to meet his, his pace increases. His mouth falling to your breasts, biting and lapping at them while you run your nails down his back, digging into his skin. Rolling back to his knees, he holds your legs up higher, the angle absolutely ruining you as you let out a strained moan. He rubs your clit while forcefully pounding into a rhythm that continually reaches the spot that’s making you vocalize deliriously. 

“Cum with me, amor,” he grits out through clenched teeth. You’re gripping him so tightly he can barely hold off. He’s on the verge of orgasm, the veins in his neck popping from his constricted breaths. His fingers press harder against your clit and you peak, your walls contracting furiously around his aching cock, spurning his own burgeoning release. Rope after rope of cum juts into you while his grip on your waist slowly weakens and his motions still.

He collapses on top of you, his sweaty body crowding yours as he slowly collects himself, delirious from his high. He spoils you with affection, showering you with kisses while you mess with his hair. Crashing his forehead against yours, he exhales slowly, resting for just a moment. You cup his face and smooth over his moustache with your thumb. “How about a shower?”

His answer is a swift kiss to your lips before removing his softening cock from your wrecked pussy and helping you to your feet. Taking his hand, you lead him up the stairs into the bathroom and run the water to let it warm. The shower isn’t as suited for two as the one in your Colombian apartment, but it's enjoyable enough, the close quarters keeping you together. You let Javier trace your body with soapy hands and close your eyes while he nuzzles into your neck, the soothing water alleviating tensions in any tense muscles.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourselves up in towels, Javi suddenly realizes he’s made a mistake. “Fuck, all my clothes are in the rental car.” 

Giggling you grab him by the nape of the neck and pull him in for a kiss. “Are you going to go out in the towel or… without it?” you tease and bite your lip, dramatically glancing down at the cloth wrapped around him.

“Ha ha very funny,” he grumbles sarcastically. “I’ll just throw on my jeans.”

“Well then I’ll grab us some nightcaps and you can meet me in the bedroom when you’ve come back from your walk of shame.” Flashing him a wicked grin, you wink and head to the kitchen. 

He returns with his beat-up duffel to find you sipping on your whiskey in some soft clothes, smiling at him when he walks through the door. He takes the glass you hand him and kisses you on the cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist as he plops down next to you. “I missed you,” he says in your ear, his nose brushing against your jawline.

“I missed you too.” Turning your face, you tenderly capture his lips in a soft kiss, smiling as you break away. 

You sip your drink while he kisses down your neck between the words of him telling you how grateful he is to be with you. You try not to choke on the liquor as his mustache drags along your skin and his hand roams on your thigh. 

Taking the empty glasses, he stands and places them on the dresser across the room. Craning his neck, his eyes narrow when he notices something jutting out of the book on your nightstand. He picks up the book and opens it to the marked page, pulling out a picture as his eyes widen from recognition. “Is this my polaroid? Are you using it as a bookmark?”

“I found it. It’s mine now. I can do what I want with it,” you taunt, grabbing the picture from his hand.

“Hey!” he scoffs, his brow furrowing in cute frustration. “Come on, that’s my favorite one.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left it behind,” you tut, throwing your arm up when he tries to steal it back.

“I’ll close the book. You’ll lose your place!” He hoists the book above his head, staring you down, daring you to call his bluff. It's cute how childish he’s acting over this photo and you’ve missed messing with him, knowing what it leads to.

“Javier Peña are you threatening me?” you ask, fanning yourself with your leverage. With a sly grin, you bite your lip and wink at him. “What are you gonna do if I say I don’t care about losing my place?” 

He drops the book and lunges forward, grabbing your wrist as he falls between your legs on the bed. You release your hold on the picture and roll your hips into him while cocking your eyebrow, inviting him to make the next move. “Qué mala, amor” he growls, tucking the memento into his back pocket. 

His kisses are bruising. Every drag of his teeth against your swollen lower lip makes you whine, which only encourages him to do it more. His tongue expertly wrestles with yours after he slips it into your mouth, leading the movements that are sending you to heaven. “Take off your top and turn over, ass up,” he growls against your lips.

You quickly obey and he rewards you with a resounding smack to your ass. Kissing your lower back he slides your shorts off and drops them on the floor, letting his hands knead into the freed skin. He chuckles when he drags two fingers into your folds to find you slick already. “Think you’re going to be rewarded for teasing me, huh?” he taunts with a grin.

You swallow any smart quip you had planned when he sinks his two fingers into you, a whine cracking in your throat as he languidly hooks them into the sensitive dip in your core. The pleasure only builds when his other hand finds your clit, rubbing circles into the bundles of nerves at the same increasing pace as the fingers inside you. The orgasm crescendos faster than expected and you can hear Javier moan as you cum hard on his fingers. 

His hands grab your hips and his mouth dives into your pussy, lapping at the arousal spread all over. From clit to slit, he licks long strokes and tiny circles, summoning another wave of warmth before the first one has fully left. Still riding the previous high, you grind into his tongue after it enters you, his nose teasing the base of your ass. Pressuring his thumb to your clit with quick vibrations, he pushes you over the edge and drinks down the releases of your second peak while you sob his name over and over until your head fully rests against the bed. 

Gripping your waist tightly, his cock darts into your soaked cunt, letting you only adjust for a moment before vigorously snapping his hips to yours. You struggle to stay in place and he pushes a hand against your lower back to keep you arched. Bunching the sheets into the covers, you sink further into the mattress as Javi pounds into you, the low boil of another orgasm rising within. 

He wraps an arm across your stomach and flings you flush against his chest, his dominant hand seeking your clit, sensing your imminent release by the intense fluttering of your walls. His arm locks you to him as you start to wiggle and whimper, the third peak of the encounter threatening to be the most severe with Javi’s pace never faltering. He bites down on that spot on your neck and the levee breaks, your arousal cascading on his cock with your scream of his name.

His quick breaths through clenched teeth blow hot air in your ear while he nuzzles his head against yours. Removing his hand from your clit, he lightly holds your neck, flexing his fingers but not digging into your skin. Three more long brutal thrusts and he stills, grunting lowly as his cum fills you up.

Your knees give out when he relaxes his hold on your stomach and you fall forward, propping yourself up by your elbows. “Fuuuck, Javier. It's always worth riling you up.”

Chuckling, he lowers himself and presses kisses down your back. “You know how to get what you want out of me. And who I am to deny you?” he teases before lightly nibbling on the top of your ass.

He taps your thigh and motions for you to sit up, helping you to get off the bed. Cupping your face in his hands, he kisses you tenderly, directly contrasting the wreckage he just did to your body. He smiles against your lips. “Soy tuyo. Completamente tuyo.”

Finally settling in for the night after taking yet another shower, you’re resting your head on Javi’s chest as he plays with the hand you had laid on his stomach. Just being near him again has you feeling full of butterflies. He doesn’t have to do anything for your heart to flutter.  _ The bastard _ . You’ll never get rid of him now, he’s woven himself into you too tightly. You kiss his chest and lift your head to find his soft brown eyes awaiting yours. “I love you,” you say softly.

A grin peaks at the edge of his lips and he tucks some hairs behind your ear. “I love you too,” he responds with sincerity. He shifts and plants one, deep kiss to your lips before turning you to the side and curling into you. His warmth is incredibly soothing and it’s not long before you’re both asleep, both unknowingly resting with peaceful smiles etched on your faces.

You wake up on the other side of the bed but your leg is still tangled around his. Turning over, you slowly release yourself and watch as his body calmly rises and falls with his steady breaths. He’d normally wake up just from you shifting but he must be in too deep a sleep, worn out from months of turmoil. You resist the urge to reach out and stroke his face, it’s more at peace than you’ve ever seen before. He deserves a nice long rest to let his body recover. There'll be plenty of time to fuss over him later.

As delicately as you can, you rise from the bed and throw on some clothes from the basket of clean laundry you luckily, but lazily, forgot to put away. Shutting the door silently, you tiptoe down the stairs and turn on the coffee pot before gathering supplies for breakfast. Without the stress of work and expectations, you’ve been honing your skills. And with Javier knocked out, you’ll have plenty of time to whip up something delicious.

It’s maybe 40 minutes later when you hear quick heavy footsteps rush down the stairs. He’s awake. You reach in the cabinet to pull out a mug for the coffee you’re sure he’ll want. Finding you standing with his back to him, he wraps his arms around and presses you to him, digging his face in your hair.

“Buenas, amor,” you giggle, laying your hands over his.

He rests his head on your shoulder and pouts, “You weren’t there when I woke up, baby.”

“Well you were knocked out cold and I thought you might want breakfast.” You gesture to the oven where your hard work lies baking.

He spins you around and your arms land on his chest as his fall to your waist. “I’d rather wait on breakfast than wake up without you there.” Leaning in, he kisses you tenderly, leaving you light-headed, though that could also be from the lack of food. Looking back into his sparkling eyes, you realize the danger of the situation. If you don’t stop this now, you won’t be eating until lunchtime and will potentially burn breakfast to a crisp due to neglect.

You pat his chest lovingly and break away. Taking the mug you got for him, you walk over to the coffee pot and pour him a cup. “You must be hungry because we didn’t eat dinner,” you say while offering him the drink.

He takes the mug and quickly places it back on the counter before spinning you into him, his arms once again locking you in. “We didn’t have dinner but I sure had my favorite dessert.” He glides a hand down your body and traces a finger over the fabric covering your core.

“ _ Javier _ ,” you grumble while laughing. The bastard knows what he wants.

“I may want the same for breakfast too…” he teases with a slap to your ass. 

“ _ Javi, I made breakfast _ ,” you insist, bugging your eyes out.

“Second breakfast, then?” he counters smoothly.

Spinning around quickly, you bust out of his embrace and face him with your jaw dropped to the floor. “Is that a Lord of the Rings reference?” you gawk.

“What? I might have picked up a copy. You and Ben always talked about it,” he shrugs defensively and looks to the floor. But when he meets your gaze, he finds the biggest grin across your face.

“Javier Peña, I love you, you fool,” you gush, looping your arms around his neck and messing with the base of his hair.

One of his hands rests on the small of your back, the other gently strokes your face. “Te amo con todo, amor.” As his lips crash into yours all you can think about is how happy you are to have him back again, he’s more than you ever hoped for.

The timer goes off and stops the kissing from going any further. Javi groans but you wave him off, ensuring that he won’t regret the intrusion. Slipping on the mitt, you open the oven and the delicious smell fills the room has you salivating, your empty stomach rumbling in anticipation too.

Gathering two portions, you set the plates down at the table and Javi brings the two coffee mugs. You don’t know if it's intense hunger or you genuinely did that good, but the food is amazing and Javi can’t stop giving you praise in between bites. Your bashful smile doesn’t go unnoticed and he squeezes your hand, dragging his thumb over your palm to ground you.

Dumping the dishes in the sink for later, you grab his hand and lead him outside to the tiny patio. He pushes the two wicker chairs together and rejoins his hand in yours when you sit down to take in the view. The cool early morning wind contrasts the rapidly rising temperature, the balance of hot and cold keeping you calm as you watch the waves crash against the shore. 

You ramble on about your time along the coast while he listens, barely looking at the scenery because he only wants to look at you. “It’s so nice here. It’s really a place I could be for a while,” you sigh, relaxing back into the chair.

“It’s nice but…” His brow furrows as his voice trails off.

“But what?” you scoff. How could he possibly find a fault in this gorgeous place?

His tongue darts out across his lower lip as he looks you over, suddenly nervous. “Texas is real nice in the fall,” he offers with a squeeze of your hand and a cheesy, apprehensive grin. 

Your heart melts and you can’t help the slow smile that glides onto your face. Javier Peña truly sees himself having a future, and he sure as hell wants you in it. You try your hardest to remain collected even though you’re positively bursting inside. “I guess I can give it a try, if you’re all in.”

He stands and drops to his knees in front of your chair, resting his elbows on your thighs as you sit up towards him. He chuckles silently for a moment while tucking some hair behind your ear. Resting his hand on your cheek, his handsome face looks at yours with all the love in his heart. “Oh, I’m all in, amor. I’m all in and I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you before capturing your lips in a kiss that feels much like your first.

  
  



End file.
